


How a Hedgehog Falls in Love

by 1117, skjinxin (timaeustestifiedsilence)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Immortal Realm, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Bickering, Bodyguard Song Mingi, Brothel’s owner Jung Wooyoung, Doctor/Musician Yeosang, Enemies to Lovers, Fancy Words Usage but im terrible with english in general, Historical Fantasy, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Immortality, Implied Relationships, Inspired by three different Chinese Dramas, M/M, Prince Kim Hongjoong, Prince Park Seonghwa, Religion (?) - Confucianism, Servant Choi Jongho, Slow Burn, Spells & Enchantments, Superpowers, Teacher Jeong Yunho, Time Travel, Wooyoung’s Husband Choi San, all hail yunho second male lead symptom, but i shall not reveal who, cuz we’re stressed n struggling so im tryna light it up like dynamite, hongjoong was just trying to live, its a cultivation setting so..., oh yeh i forgot to add but, seems about right that’s literally every drama out there, seonghwa was pretty rude at first i apologized, this au exists purely for comic relief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1117/pseuds/1117, https://archiveofourown.org/users/timaeustestifiedsilence/pseuds/skjinxin
Summary: Hongjoong was a well-known action scriptwriter.He was offered to write a romance drama that he had no experience with for a higher paycheck.Mars was one of the current famous actors.He rejected Hongjoong’s story script, saying it was not acceptable for a romance story’s standard.Hongjoong fainted from overworked while editing the storyline from scratch after Mars’ criticism, and traveled into his own story where he became the character that was supposed to die on episode three of the drama.But if he dies...he cannot return.So his mission was to stay alive, and tried his best to make the story following the plot that he had settled out.Well...that didn’t really go as planned.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	1. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god...this is so long and lengthy but hello welcome to another episode of me going crazy over seongjoong
> 
> this universe is one BIG crossover that is totally inspired by Love and Redemption, The Untamed, and The Romance of Tiger and Rose. (they are a few of my many favorite c-dramas and im telling you if you haven’t watched any of them you are missing out).
> 
> even tho the tags are spoiling literally everything, the main ship is seongjoong fyi
> 
> yells loudly bc author is risking her title as a buddhist to make this story (which means i might fuck up smth along the way unconsciously bc im no specialist in my religion, along with confucianism)
> 
> god bless you mai (skjinxin) for beta-reading this piece of crackhead <3
> 
> yup! :), i made the work skin myself, (perks of studied programming lol even tho i switched my major recently)  
> it’s for the aesthetic royal heavenly/immortal realm vibe bc this is where the story takes place (kinda), i hope u like it, but if u dont, nw, the “hide creator’s style” button’s always available!
> 
> no specific posting date and it’s very inconsistent, (we’re both busy, busy people u_u so sorry), so if we post like in 2 days but go ia for 1 whole week, you know what that means *awkward laughs*
> 
> but let’s see where this is heading to . . . :,)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any external resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ongjoong had never expected that his morning would begin this terribly.

“Mr. Shin, could you give me just a few more days? I’m about to finish-”

“Well, you see, Mr. Kim, this is not something we can take lightly; the filming will start in three weeks, and I would prefer you to turn in the script and discuss with our lead actors about the plot. We can’t afford to let them wait any longer.” The raspy voice rumbled across the phone, passing through tactic sounds as Hongjoong bit his lips, cell phone in between his ear and shoulder. His fingers harshly spamming on the keyboard with the Word document opened.

“Sir, I promise the last scene is here. I just need some more time to clean up the details.” 

“Mr. Kim, our patience is running thin. You know Mars is not easy to approach; we have spent days convincing him to participate in our drama. If you remain stretching the story, what if he declined our offer? Every second is gold.”

Of course, he knew every second was gold. He did work for the film industry more times than one could count the toes on their feet. He wasn’t any amateur.

While Mr. Shin here with his stupid director title, decided to nag at him like the man was on his period, Hongjoong had enough. He was so close to burning the whole company down and calling it a day.

Damn Mr. Shin for being his drama director.

Hongjoong bit his lips roughly, trying his best to slam more words into the white document before he dropped dead or something. Life was uncomfortable in so many ways.

Talk about the older man’s words, discussing with the main characters was a must in fully comprehending the drama storyline. It is easier to fill in parts by then if the actors and actresses have trouble grasping. But talking with Mars, the current hot topic, was a different experience.

Actually, no. It was the worst experience in Hongjoong’s life.

Two days ago, Hongjoong did go to Mars’ house, did fully set his ass down on the fancy couch in the man’s living room only to be met with a slap (metaphorically) on the face about how his story script made no sense and needed to be rewritten.

Who did he think he was?

Just because he was taller and was an overly good-looking actor didn’t mean he could insult Hongjoong’s marvelous imagination. Hongjoong would have snatched his hair off and pulled a gut or two out without a second thought. Screw his fame and title. Nobody should have the audacity to neglect his efforts like that. Hongjoong worked for _months_ on this story plot. But as angry as he was, Hongjoong still needed to fix the goddamn script.

Because Mars was their main character, Mr. Shin would skin him alive if he didn’t cooperate.

* * *

“I apologize, Mr. Kim. Perhaps, have you never dated anyone before?” The man voiced out with a dense line on his eyebrows, staring weirdly at the script while Hongjoong nearly choked on the black tea he was drinking.

“W-What?” He stuttered at the latter’s question, “No. But why does it matter?”

Mars looked up at him, still sharing the same facial expression when he did with the script, his mouth lifted mockingly. “I sure did figure it out, lucky guess. If the question was invasive, I’m sorry, but it makes no sense. Why would Park Yoon have to fall in love with Kim Hwangmi when all they did was hide conflicts and secrets behind their backs? How did you make them fall in love with each other?” Hongjoong’s eyes followed the long finger pointing toward a specific page in his book, where he had no absolute clue about its wrongness. “Here, as you can see, after Park Yoon poisoned the Kims’ youngest son, Kim Gong, on their wedding night, he instantly pretended he didn’t do anything and offered to be married to Kim Hwangmi because he had an unknown disease and wanted to steal the secret cure-all medicine from the Kim Clan. He was there with a purpose, and Kim Hwangmi was the supposed leader for the Kims, where both the Kim and Park clans are nowhere near friendly on the relationship bar. Then how did they fall in love? Are you just spitting any random scenario you could muster?”

Hongjoong stared at the man’s words, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets, but he refrained from getting up and slapping the script into his handsome face. Mars was rude. Very rude.

“If you scroll back to the first three pages, it said clearly that Kim Hwangmi is someone who despises the Parks, but how come in part four of the script book they were kissing while the whole middle parts were messes of sword fights and constant planning? I don’t get it.”

Hongjoong swallowed a lump in his throat with pure irritation.

Listen, he was a scriptwriter. But he was not a romance scriptwriter. His expertise was action. The only reason Hongjoong buried himself in this shit hole was the higher payment that this drama offered, and he needed to pay off the iPad Air that his mother bought without telling him while using his money. He was desperate.

If he knew he would have to talk to such a picky, rotten brick, he wouldn’t have taken the proposal.

While he had given an earful to his mom not to waste their money in the middle of a pandemic, unfortunately, he also had an ignorant snob who preferred to make his life absorbed more misery rather than taking the script and nodded an agreement.

“W-well,” he grunted out a sound, “After Kim Gong’s death, the Kim family fell into serious depression, and to cope with the loss of their youngest son, they wanted to have a change of pace by letting Park Yoon marry the Kims’ daughter. They didn’t know that Park Yoon killed Kim Gong and wanted to create peace between the Park-Kim by forming an arranged marriage. Together, Park Yoon and Kim Hwangmi began to have feelings for one another while Park Yoon planned behind her back to steal the medicine and take over the clan.”

“But how?” Mars asked again, his voice lowered to an octave where Hongjoong realized that the latter was as frustrated as him. “How did they fall in love? You can’t put two characters on a screen with people focused on them and act the feelings as if it was already set up. This script is a drama script, not some teen Disney movie. It has to make sense. What kind of interactions did they have? And how important and dramatic were those interactions that they moved the characters’ feelings? It’s not a one-plus-one thing.”

Hongjoong felt the need to give it up altogether. “Mars-ssi,” he had to calm himself down, “As I included, he-”

“I’m not taking the role.” Mars clicked his tongue with a quick throw. The script swung toward the glassed coffee table, unorganized. “Either you fix the story to the point of being acceptable, or you find someone else. Our conversation ends here.” Mars stood up from his seat, shooing with his hand toward Hongjoong’s direction. See? Rude.

“Also, you know what? I suggest you should go and have fun with someone if you can. Your love experience,” he clucked his tongue again “is very dry.” Mars strolled back into his room, not caring if Hongjoong would steal the big actor award metal hung on the glassed counter on the wall while he wasn’t looking.

After a moment of dumbfoundedness where Hongjoong found himself staring at the script book as if it could combust, he stood up with a huff and angrily marched out of the actor’s house.

Who did he think he was?

* * *

So, there Hongjoong was, with five different coffee mugs on his work desk that dried by hours passing, and his eyes darkened with sleep deprivation. Hongjoong recklessly spammed words and words into the poor keyboard at the parts that Mr. Oh-so-know-it-all whined about and hoped to the Lord that he could submit the draft before the given due time.

“I will show you what it takes to be a good writer, you arrogant prick.” Hongjoong gritted, busying himself into the workload after, forgetting what even heaven or hell was, or even who himself was. At some point, his nose bled.

_Well, fuck._

He gathered the nearby tissue box and stuffed the white material into his nose, focusing back on the task. By the end of the day, Hongjoong managed to cramp in more “detailed” scenes. His brain was about to give up on him.

* * *

_After the Great War between the two biggest clans in the Immortal Realm, The Phoenixes, and the Dragons, the leaders proclaimed the lands to be split between the two families, demanding eternal rivalry. The Dragons were known for their powerful, sharpening water elements; the Phoenixes were vibrant in their ignited fire elements. When both fire and water burst out, where Yin and Yang could not balance the furiousness between the two clans, a bloodbath occurred where the soldiers had fallen, and history continued for the longest time ever. Despite even in the present, neither of them surrendered._

_The head of the Dragons, the Park clan, one day, finally suggested requesting a treaty of peace between the groups to calm the mind of the nation, furthermore, refraining from the ominous reaction whenever the two clans went against each other. But as thoughtful and understanding as the Dragons have been, the Phoenixes were known to be hot-blooded and prideful; Mistress Kim demanded a compromise deal where their clan received acceptable profits from pursuing the peace. The Park agreed bitterly at Kim’s ignorance, soon sending their only son, Park Yoon, to enter Kims’ palace and court Kim Hwangmi, their future leader. A part was for Park Yoon to secretly steal the one-and-only cure to his sickness, the sickness that restricted him from using his power for more than half an incense stick*. Another part was to spy on the neighbor’s situation, setting plans for his clan’s invasion. To defeat the Phoenixes once and for all._

_However, on the day of Park Yoon’s journey, on his way toward the Kims’ Palace, Kim Gong, the youngest Kims’ child, sped his horse amid the town, rushing towards Park Yoon’s carriage. Kim Gong had stopped the man in his tracks with playfulness and a devilish expression, demanding the man to step down from his wagon and become Kim Gong’s husband. In the Phoenixes society, genders weren’t prioritized. Anyone can partner with whoever they wanted, but with the Dragons’ mindset, Park Yoon was astonished and soon became furious with the other man’s nonsense, and rejected the words the instant it left the latter’s mouth._

_Kim Gong was known for his spoiled personality and overwhelmed tantrums. Acknowledging that he was the youngest son, Mistress Kim tended to take a softer stance whenever said son is named, maybe even more so than Kim Hwangmi. With his spoiled tendencies, seeing that his sister had gotten a chance to marry the Parks clan’s son, Kim Gong decided to make a scene. He planned to steal the marriage and set up the wedding for himself rather than for his sister. Kim Gong used his fire chain to lock Park Yoon, the sea serpent, then commanded his servants to prepare for their wedding._

_The day after, when the wedding had been prepared, Park Yoon secretly called his most trusted bodyguard, Song Yimun, to put poison into the wedding alcohol, where Kim Gong would drink, and died unknowingly. Park Yoon had been thankful that Kim Gong was one ignorant idiot for being careless toward his enemy, even to the point of not announcing this sudden marriage to the Kims clan. Therefore, if Kim Gong passed away mysteriously, it was not Park Yoon’s responsibility to take._

_Park Yoon escaped the wedding, leaving a dead Kim Gong behind._

_After the Kims’ youngest son’s death, the Kims were heartbroken. Kim Hwangmi became fragile with her heart, sad and heavy, whenever she was reminded of her little brother, where Park Yoon began to step into her life by lighting up her blue days again. Mistress Kim had approved their wedding soon after, once Park Yoon had sent the deals that the Parks clan agreed with, and the lady nodded approvingly._

_As careful as Kim Hwangmi had always been, for some reason, Park Yoon could not be the case, and slowly, she realized she had fallen deeply in love with him._

_Mistress Kim had disapproved of Park Yoon, knowing that he would remain useless with the strange sickness that he had, but only let loose with their marriage for the sake of both clans’ treaty. She secretly understood that one day, the Kims clan might regret forming such an impossible deal with an enemy that they had been settled for over a decade._

_It was the calm before the storm._

_Two years later, when Park Yoon had successfully located where the medication was, he snuck into the secret pathway, taking the treasured item away while leaving the mansion where the young couple lived. Kim Hwangmi woke up with the feeling of betrayal, seeing as Park Yoon’s army surrounded the Kims clan, killing one by one under the fierce flow of currents. Soon, the Kims clan was swallowed beneath an unescaped hole of the ocean._

_Kim Hwangmi had managed to escape, being rescued by one of her comrades. She promised to train herself and sought revenge when all of the phoenixes had died during the fight. Sadly, she realized that she was one of the few who survived and was blinded in rage toward her family’s death._

_After years of training in despair, Kim Hwangmi finally regained her army, received trust from the lost Phoenix people, and ambushed the Parks’ palace with all her might. Kim Hwangmi finally obtained the revenge that she had always prayed for, taking the head of Park Yoon off by herself._

_“If I had known that you would be this barbaric, I would have killed you then; this must be a punishment for me to let you live, I shouldn’t have been soft-hearted to you,” Park Yoon had whispered. His last words lingered sourly in the air before he dropped into the ground, where Kim Hwangmi’s claws stabbed through his chest._

_He did not fight back. Letting the sharpened fingers split through his skin despite knowing that he could always take Hwangmi down._

_He didn’t want to; his heart couldn’t._

_“If you had not betrayed my trust, maybe things would never have gotten this way.” But the younger lady was too far lost in her wrath. Such little details had no longer become her weakness. Kim Hwangmi furiously responded, pressing her claws deeper into the man’s lungs, “You killed my brother, you destroyed my family, you took away our clan. Park Yoon, you have no right to speak about the word barbaric. I will return what I received.”_

_And as the Parks’ palace burnt in the fire of rage, Kim Hwangmi took what she had lost and reconstructed the Phoenixes world once again._

_When everything she once had faded away, Kim Hwangmi finally regained the justice she always craved. As she led through the crowds with her fierceness, her title remained legendary for all eternity._

* * *

Hongjoong groaned from his chair, with the package of wet tissue at the side of his desk and a mug of tea this time, saving his file as he stood up. His backbone cracked painfully, where he tried to stretch his sleeping legs, and for a second, Hongjoong almost saw stars.

He couldn’t recall how much time he spent writing without resting his back, but the story seemed almost to be reaching the end, and he whined tiredly. His inner mind finally had the chance to take a break. Hongjoong closed his laptop and let out a relieved sigh. He caught the flu yesterday trying to finish the script and stupidly pulling an all-nighter for the sake of completing this monster. It was to the point that the young writer had forgotten to take care of his health. 

Hongjoong sniffed his stuffy nose. His head burned way much hotter than it should be allowed to when things began to feel off-balanced. The tea mug was dried now, having already been finished an hour earlier. He tried to pick up the cup, but the effects of staring at a white screen for over twenty-four hours (he knew it wasn’t a brilliant choice) were hitting him full-force. His head throbbed repeatedly, and Hongjoong uncomfortably sniffed again. He held on to the cup with a shaky hand, trying to walk toward where his kitchen sink was, but the blurriness seemed to have worsened; before he could notice, Hongjoong tripped over his feet and fell.

The cup luckily remained intact (where he got from the nearby convenience store for five dollars), but Hongjoong’s head, unfortunately, bumped down the wooden floor as he laid still on the ground like a dead fish.

Before he could even mutter a word, his consciousness faded away slowly, and the poor writer lost his eyesight the second after.

* * *

“Master Kim, Master Kim! Please wake up. The wedding will begin at Rooster hour**.”

Hongjoong opened his eyes wearily, staring at the colorful red and white stripes hung up on the ceiling. His back was comfortably lying down on a soft yellow silk mattress.

His head still throbbed painfully, but he managed to muster enough energy to push himself up.

Hongjoong squinted his eyes at the bright light coming from the window, adjusting his view to take in his surroundings. They naturally landed on a figure that stood by the door, holding a tray with red-covered fabric on top. The writer looked at the stranger questioningly. “Who are you?”

The man looked around, confused. Then pointed at himself, asked back, “M-me? Master Kim, are you not feeling well? It’s me, Jongho, your private servant.”

Hongjoong was stunned at the words, looking at the man with a perplexed reaction this time, furrowing his brows, “What?” He turned around to inspect the room, with carefully arranged decorations and the strong smell of incense permeating the place, then back at the man again. For a quick moment, Hongjoong felt like he was choking on the air. 

This was not his room. And neither was it a room in his apartment.

“What filming site is this? Has the director already begun the filming process? Did Mars agree to take the role, and we are rolling on the cameras right now? Why can’t I remember anything?”

“Master Kim, what are you talking about, filming? Mars? Director? Camera? What do they mean?” The man named Jongho asked. Hongjoong would have thought that he was joking if it wasn’t because of how wide the latter’s eyes were. Hongjoong furrowed his brows again.

Something felt wrong.

So he got himself up and gazed around the room. He stared down at his clothes, seeing a plain white inner layer of a hanbok that he knew did not belong in his closet. Hongjoong checked the decorations, walking closer to them, inspecting the wall patterns with hawk eyes until he found the explanation that sounded the most logical. Moreover, the most absurd answer.

He _wrote_ this; he’d described this place with his own two hands... It was disturbingly reminiscent of Kim Gong’s wedding room.

“Tell me, Jongho-ssi, what year is this?”

Jongho jolted up at the question, glancing at the man before him in confusion. “W-what...year? Master Kim, I don’t understand.”

_Oh, God._

Hongjoong sighed, turning his head toward the wallpaper designed again, then checked over the wooden closet and the candles arranged on a table. These items were too familiar to him. The young man looked down at his feet, observing the gray cement floor beneath his feet, until something suddenly clicked in his brain.

_Oh, God._

_No._

“Jongho-ssi.” He asked grimly, 

Jongho listened, expecting another question even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to understand. This time, he did recognize the answer.

“Has the Great War ended yet?”

“The Great War? That happened over a decade ago, Master Kim. Why are you asking?”

_Now, great._

Hongjoong groaned, looking at his surroundings again devastatingly as the blood rushed up to his face, where he sensed the tension of an explosion. He must have given himself a severe concussion and was now hallucinating things. The man slapped his forehead, forcing himself to think, so he didn’t feel so lost in such a ridiculous situation.

“Now that you are calling me Master Kim, what exactly am I again?”

Jongho helpfully responded, “Master Kim, are you truly alright?”

“Just answer the damn question.” Jongho shut his mouth at the yelling, and Hongjoong instantly regretted it. He didn’t mean to lash out like that.

“Y-you...You are Kim Hongjoong, the youngest child from the Kims clan.”

So after rewriting the entire story script, Hongjoong had turned into the two-cent background character who died in episode three. The one annoying character that was also spoiled, hot-blooded, and mannerless.

That was reassuring to know.

Hongjoong wanted to wake up from this dream so bad.

“Lovely, that is what I like to hear,” he mumbled sarcastically, then fully turned to the man still standing by the door. “And what is happening right now? What are we doing?”

“You are supposed to get ready for the wedding, Master. It will begin soon,” Jongho replied, finally remembering what his purpose was for standing here. Hongjoong slowly recalled that he, under the influence of Kim Gong, in fact, did pull out a scene and stole Park Yoon before the Parks’ son reached the main palace gates.

And if this scenario happened as he had written, Hongjoong’s character was supposed to die tonight.

. . .Tonight.

He wasn’t sure if he should let it happen or refrain the event from proceeding. But he’d rather be safe than sorry, so Hongjoong picked the second option; he didn’t know that if he died here, whether his real-life body would or wouldn’t die, too. The thought made him shudder, and the young man rubbed his palms over his arms from the goosebumps. Hongjoong stared at the red tray that Jongho was holding, realizing that it was his wedding clothes, and he quickly took it, kicking the servant out of the door before changing.

Hongjoong wasn’t paid enough for this.

Rather than standing still like a fool, Hongjoong wanted to escape out of here safe and sound. He didn’t want to think about what would happen next. Firstly, though, if he had no idea what would occur, he still needed to alter the poor Kim Gong’s fate by tonight from being poisoned before it led straight to his funeral.

The rest was for the future to worry about.

* * *

After fixing his garment, Hongjoong called Jongho back in, telling the man to prepare a hand-written letter and send it through the pigeon to alert his family about the wedding and Kim Gong’s reckless decision. 

At least, if Hongjoong failed to save himself, the Kim clan could still distinguish who had killed him and ended all those tragic events after. Writing a story was enjoyable, mostly when he made it, but if he had to be a character in his plot, the first person he despised would definitely be himself. It felt as if the higher-ups were siding up with Mars to mock his lack of experience in romance. Because the majority of his scripts were action, killing would always occur.

Hongjoong knew he was bare. He was a workaholic, and moreover, a boring person. The most anyone could expect from him was to leave his house during the weekends for some groceries, and that was it. He was the perfect example of an introvert.

So getting into a loving relationship had never occurred to him.

But apparently, he had a task to do now.

To stay alive, because Hongjoong couldn’t write romance for shit, and he had to protect himself from dying at the hand of this Park Yoon person.

It wouldn’t be a script written by Kim Hongjoong if nobody died.

Hongjoong remembered describing Kim Gong’s servant as someone smart enough to write and read. The man would be quick with his actions and was a perfect fruit chopper. In this case, the fruit chopper part is unnecessary, but he would have to depend on Jongho until the scene he wrote came. By then, Hongjoong could return home.

“Jongho, could you send a letter to my mother about this wedding? Make sure to highlight that if I don’t return to the Kims’ gates by Pig hour, tell her to send guards to this place.” Hongjoong carefully instructed, and Jongho listened, settling down and pressing his brush.

He checked the clouds outside the window, seeing the floating fluffy mists gradually turn into an orange hue. By then, he knew that it was getting close to Rooster hour. Hongjoong planned to begin their wedding without any protocol but pushed straight into the after-the-ceremony event where they stayed in the same room. He knew that Song Yimun would secretly put poison into his drink, and if he were Kim Gong, he would swallow the liquid in a heartbeat.

With that being said, Hongjoong had to meet Park Yoon before Song Yimun could sneak inside the mansion and meet up with his master. Hongjoong walked out of the room, but Jongho’s voice stopped him.

“Where are you heading to, Master Kim? Shouldn’t we wait until the maids carry the wedding presents first?” Jongho stood up, putting the brush down.

“Skip the tradition. We will start the wedding now. Show me where Park Yoon is. I must have a few words with him.”

The servant looked at him in confusion, tilting his head toward the direction that Hongjoong headed to, “Park...Yoon? Who is Park Yoon?”

Hongjoong paused at the question.

_Now, what is going on?_

“Park Yoon.” Hongjoong said bewildered, “You don’t know who Park Yoon is?” Jongho innocently shook his head.

“Park Yoon, the only son from the Parks clan, the one that was supposed to enter the Phoenix's territory for a treaty between the two groups. My soon-to-be _husband_.” Hongjoong gritted his teeth at the last word, feeling foreign on his tongue. Partly because he still craved the feeling of being single, and partly because he was about to marry someone that was a figment of his imagination. The more he pondered about it, the more ridiculous it sounded.

“You...you mean...Park Seonghwa, Master?” Jongho guardedly sputtered, and Hongjoong took a step back to think.

Who the fuck was Park Seonghwa?

Hongjoong stared back at the other man again, a little lost this time. “Park Seonghwa?”

“Master Kim, please tell me you are fine. I am getting a bit concerned.”

_No, I’m not fucking fine. DO I LOOK-_

Hongjoong would like to tell the man those lines.

“The only son from the Parks clan is Park Seonghwa. I thought you knew.” Hongjoong would like to mention the scoffing tone lingering in Jongho’s voice, but he didn’t. He gave the servant a few lines in the script initially because he felt sorry, but now he kind of regretted it. Something was telling him Jongho would speak more than how he appeared.

“Right… Good to know,” Hongjoong murmured as he walked out of the door again, signaling for Jongho to stay back and finish the letter.

He now learned that the main male character’s name had changed; it wasn’t just himself.

But Park Seonghwa…

Still curious about the name, Hongjoong was quickly pacing toward the mansion where the latter was located. Who was Park Seonghwa? Because he couldn’t recall that name at all. At least not inside his connection or any previous written characters’ names from his stories.

But his question soon answered the moment Hongjoong stepped inside the room. The young writer’s face paled, and he felt all his nerves winding up from the blood inside his veins.

In all his glory, standing inside the room, was the famous actor he had silently anathematized for days. Mars was glued to the wall with harsh stripes of fire chains (they looked painful, kudos him for that), unmoving. But he was conscious and was intensely staring at Hongjoong the moment the shorter man set foot inside.

Hongjoong hesitated. In an instant, he remembered who Park Seonghwa was. 

Mars’ real name was Park Seonghwa. 

But it made no sense for him because Hongjoong recalled that Mars rejected the role in this drama.

“I thought you didn’t want to take the role,” Hongjoong asked out loud, and Mars- no. Park Seonghwa looked at him like he just swallowed a jackfruit seed. 

“What?”

Hongjoong realized what he said and froze.

Shit, he wasn’t the actual in-real-life Mars. He was more like a part of Hongjoong’s crazy dream. So he swallowed dryly and waved his hand in denial.

“Uh, nothing. Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Park Seonghwa, as Hongjoong observed, looked way too good to be real. Despite having long hair this time, the bangs on top were styling nicely, and something ugly crawled up his throat because _damn_ , he also wanted to be that good-looking. His tall frame nicely fitted inside the blue silk garment, and Hongjoong knew that God must have had favorites. There was no other way.

Hongjoong walked closer toward the chains that locked Park Seonghwa up and closely reached his hands toward the hot objects. They were shining red, gushing out lines of fire that seemed too accurate… too realistic.

Imagine how much CGI the editors applied for all these features? Insane.

Exactly, Hongjoong could only imagine.

It was fascinating. Hongjoong’s hallucination level must have reached an advanced level because _hell_ , he could even feel things now. Hongjoong hissed when his fingers got burned as he withdrew the hand from the chains. Seonghwa looked at him like he had gone mad.

“Why- What are you doing that for?” Park Seonghwa questioned, still shocked by Hongjoong’s previous action.

And Hongjoong responded dumbly, “I was- I...I thought it was-”

“Was what? Can’t you see the fire is lighting up the chains? Why didn’t you use your power to touch it instead of your bare hands? Are you dumb?” Park Seonghwa cut him off, and Hongjoong realized that Mars in real life and this hallucinated image of Park Seonghwa were very much the ones and same person. Rude. Very rude.

But back to the issue, he had to take Park Seonghwa back to his room before Song Yimun arrived, and Hongjoong didn’t know how to use his power.

Things just worsened the more he stayed here. Excellent.

“Well...how do I use it?” Hongjoong asked, knowing how ludicrous he sounded, but he didn’t have a choice here, did he?

“Kim Hongjoong, are you messing with me?” Park Seonghwa slowly enunciated. His voice seemed almost annoyed, as if he would rip out the chains and wrap them around Hongjoong’s neck if he could. But Hongjoong wouldn’t leave the latter with such honor, of course.

“What if,” he began, “what if I said I hit my head on the edge of the bed and got a little amnesia, so I forgot how to work my power. would you believe me then?” Seonghwa scoffed. “I want to release you, but I don’t know how to,” Seonghwa’s eyes couldn’t get any sharper than they already were until he huffed out an irritated breath and groaned.

“I’m serious. I don’t know how to.” Park Seonghwa seemed to reconsider the shorter man’s words. It sounded honest...And stupid at the same time.

The dragon sighed and instructed Hongjoong to come closer. He speculated that he would have to kill the man right after his wrists were free, But Hongjoong dismissed the thought as fast as it had appeared.

“Ah, right. If you are planning to kill me now, I am kindly reminding you that before leaving my room, I’ve sent a letter to my mother about-” he looked at the distance in between them, “-whatever this is that is happening right now.”

Park Seonghwa had not predicted that Kim Hongjoong would do something like that, just like Hongjoong thought, concluding from the man’s surprised expression. Kim Gong had always been overconfident about his power and too ignorant to know that the world was filthy with intended and conscious beings. One of them was Park Yoon.

Joke’s on Park Yoon, though, or the current Park Seonghwa, that Hongjoong’s IQ was 140. And he was the writer of this goddamn soap opera, like it or not.

Hongjoong noticed how quiet Park Seonghwa had been and gazed up to see the man watching him, seeming a little calculated.

Before any words could leave the man’s mouth, though, the young writer cut him off, “We will move to my room and begin the feast. We can start the tradition inside.” Then he turned around, instantly disappointed with himself. Because it was he who wrote about Kim Gong stealing the marriage, and now, he ended up turning into Kim Gong while partnered with an asshole that dissed Hongjoong’s drama knowledge. He also wanted to curse at his brain for imagining all these details that seemed too genuine to be fake.

He really wanted to wake up from this dream. Hongjoong was desperate.

Park Seonghwa appeared defeated beneath the chains, but Hongjoong didn’t want to let his guard down. He reached closer to the shackles cautiously, and the dragon told, pretending that Hongjoong did actually forget how to work his magic. The taller just wanted to get out of this room. 

When Hongjoong was in front of the man, he reached his hands up toward the handcuffs awkwardly. On the side of Park Seonghwa's neck, Hongjoong remembered, revealing a blue birthmark in the shape of a petal. Initially, each member in the Dragons clan had one on their body, and only if they fell in love, the mark would disappear.

In the story, Park Yoon’s mark had disappeared after the couple went on an excursion, where Kim Hwangmi fell into a cliff, and Park Yoon had jumped down to rescue her. After a week spent together inside a cage beneath the ground, Park Yoon had bandaged her wounds and got to know her more than her daily façade.

Perhaps, he fell deeper into the rabbit hole that the Parks clan had tried to prevent, maybe even before the treaty happened. 

Hongjoong stared at the birthmark with a deep frown, clearly lost in thoughts. Until a cough sounded between him and Park Seonghwa that he realized he was dazing out like a fool. The taller man cleared his throat, signaled with his head for Hongjoong to get closer toward the chains. Hongjoong followed, feeling a little embarrassed for watching the man creepily. He opened his palms, and the dragon led him with careful guidance.

“Focus the energy from your chest to your palms, let it warm up your hands, and transfer the power into the chains. You will be able to hold it.”

Now, that wasn’t very helpful.

“H-How, how do I-”

“Close your eyes.” Park Seonghwa reminded, “let the energy inside you travel to your chest, then imagine it running towards your hands.” He guided slowly, with every sentence coming out clear and definite. 

Hongjoong closed his eyes, thinking of the unknown energy the man had described, then anticipating the power that felt impossible to imagine. But it was there; where Hongjoong felt a hot sensation moving inside his chest, the young man thought of a red substance, as it fiercely pushed toward his arms, running from the core of his chest. He heaved a sigh, opening his eyes to see streams of orange light flowing toward his arms and then his hands. As he reached toward the boiling chains on the walls, they burst and crumbled into dust when he touched them.

Oh, that was easier than he thought.

Hongjoong silently thanked that Kim Gong had initially been a powerful beast. If not, Hongjoong would probably fall even if he didn’t die from the poison. He wasn’t very into physical stuff. Unfortunately, the immortal realm required skilled individuals that could anticipate dangers by using spells and abilities.

For now, Hongjoong could only depend on the lack of knowledge in fighting and the weird martial arts movements that he learned on TV, even if he ended up sleeping through half of them.

Well, at least it was better than nothing,

Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa fell to the ground, pushing himself up before he painfully cracked his bones and rubbed lightly over his burned wrists. Oh dear, Hongjoong kind of felt sorry for the man.

“Sorry,” he murmured, stopping the dragon on his track, and Park Seonghwa looked up at him like he just saw a ghost for the first time.

“What?”

“I said sorry, sorry if it hurts, I’m sure you’ve been caged for quite a moment.”

Park Seonghwa was astonished, and Hongjoong understood.

In creating the character Kim Gong, he had built up the aspect that Kim Gong was ignorant and dense; where he refused to be taught by anyone and was very adamant in his mindset. If words were absolute, Kim Gong’s would be the ones who made the laws. He was self-important, assertive, and moreover, never apologized for the mistakes he caused. 

Kim Gong was famous for his bad-temper, and maybe because of the sudden apology coming from Hongjoong’s lips, Seonghwa stood still for a hot second, apparently not believing what he just heard.

Hongjoong was carrying the role of everyone’s biggest hater. 

But realistically speaking, if someone gave him five billion dollars, he would still reject the position of being the greatest bitch. He was too kind for his good. And too quiet to be evil.

With such a delicate personality that he possessed, as expected, he was also too shy to snatch a man (yes, you read that correctly), which ended up with his friends continually calling him a pussy whenever they grouped up at a nightclub because Hongjoong never had enough balls to take a guy home.

They definitely were not pleasant memories, if anyone asked.

Hongjoong was a mess.

So fuck the bad bitch role, Hongjoong might have to alter Kim Gong’s personality a bit more than intended. Sorry, not sorry.

He still couldn’t believe that he spent _days_ creating a character only for it to go down the drain like that, but this was his life on the line, and if only he knew other ways to return and wake up, things would have been easier. 

Anyhow, Park Seonghwa would have to deal with a softer Kim Gong version at this point. And maybe Hongjoong could try to fix this story back again as to how it was written.

He did not get paid enough for this, and he would like to remind everyone of that fact.

In the meantime, taking Park Seonghwa back to his room was the best option his 140 IQ could come up with. And perhaps, suffering some more with the same devil in disguise of a man who said Hongjoong’s life sucks was the only option available right now. Damn Hongjoong and his bad luck.

As the Parks clan’s son kept staring, Hongjoong couldn’t truly see what his thoughts were under that unreadable expression, even when they walked back to his room. Regardless, all he could do was to pray on their way back that his neck and shoulders remained intact.

_Oh, God._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of these references are things that were commonly used in southeast asian countries (im not sure if other places used the same) since centuries ago:
> 
> * : one of the time measurements back then is an incense stick. you can think it as an hourglass. one stick burns out completely indicates that a specific time-length has passed. sizes are various but in this case the stick is 1 hour long.  
> ** : we use the 12 animals that represent the lunar calendar as the hours, ex: pig hour means it’s between 7pm-9pm.
> 
> if you have more questions or anything mentioned in the story confused you, feel free to ask!


	2. Mistress Kim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rmb when mai told me “it’s not a traditional c-drama when the main character doesn’t overthink inside their head all the time” cuz i was worried about inserting too much insight thoughts into hongjoong’s pov and the way i burst my lungs knowing that its the truth hahahaha
> 
> once again, mai is a savior and had beta-read this, everyone say thank you to her :,)
> 
> ~happy reading~

hen Hongjoong got back to his room with Park Seonghwa, he was surprised that nothing happened. 

Except, the moment he walked in, there was a quick silhouette that rushed into the corner of the window. Jongho was nowhere to be seen, and the young writer looked around the place frantically. He remembered assigning the servant to send Mistress Kim the letter and wondered if the man had run out and delivered the pigeon.

If so, what was that swift shadow? Puzzled, Hongjoong tilted his head, turning around to check on the taller man; for some reason, the dragon only stared in the direction of the table.

On the table, there was a white alcohol bottle and Chinese teacups. There was also food, but Hongjoong didn’t want to focus on that right now.

But what was there for Seonghwa to look at besides the drink-

Oh...

Fuck.

Hongjoong quickly realized something. Had Song Yimun arrived at Park Seonghwa’s place already, and Hongjoong was a step late? What if the shadow earlier was Song Yimun, and the man had entered the room while Jongho was unavailable? Hongjoong’s hands began to sweat, and he walked inside, purposely dodging the table on the left side of the room.

Even as Park Seonghwa pretended not to pay much attention to the bottle, Hongjoong thought it was apparent. Maybe it was the writer’s privilege, and he had created the plot like a majestic hen with a dozen eggs, but seeing Park Seonghwa head straight to the table made him more nervous.

“W-wait, wait! Don’t sit there.” He rushed to the man, tightly gripped his arm, and pulled him toward the bed. “Let’s, uh, let’s sit here instead.” They moved and sat down on the mattress, where Hongjoong still held the man tightly. 

The longer Park Seonghwa stayed away from the table, the longer Hongjoong lived.

Seonghwa looked at him weirdly.

“I, well, uhm,” he tried to think of an excuse.

Ah, here we go.

“E-earlier, Jongho, my servant, sat on the chair, and it broke. We can’t sit there anymore.” Seonghwa stared back at the chair that looked totally fine, then turned around to Hongjoong, furrowing his brows. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“It was because Jongho had put it back.”

“Then, I don’t see why we are not sitting there.” Park Seonghwa countered, then pushed himself off the bed and walked towards the table.

“No, no, no- Don’t-” Hongjoong grabbed him again but ended up putting so much force in his grip that the taller man lost his balance and yelped. As Park Seonghwa got spun around unexpectedly, they ended up falling over each other onto the bed.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as many thoughts rushed through him.

Oh, God. Has any drama been this dramatic?

 _Yes._ Hongjoong’s brain helpfully replied.

Hongjoong thought that maybe the world had decided to go against him now because quickly after that, Jongho walked inside the room. He then halted there, yelping loudly, “Master, I’ve sent your words, Mistress Kim will- AH! My apologies,” and roughly closed the doors.

Park Seonghwa was still on top of him. And it was only them inside the room.

Hongjoong sighed tiredly, looking up at the man who was still leaning his weight on Hongjoong’s body, “Are you going to lie here forever, or are you getting up?” Park Seonghwa was horrified, harshly pushing himself off the shorter man before huffing and walking toward the table. Before the young writer could stop the man again, he had already settled down at the chair.

Maybe not the same chair that Hongjoong said, but the one beside it.

Hongjoong decided to stand beside him, feeding into his previous lie that the chair was broken. But it looked like the dragon must have figured it out with how the writer was making it more obvious. He stared warily around the room, not wanting to look at the latter. Hongjoong knew that Park Seonghwa would still offer him the drink even if he knew the Kims clan had been informed about the wedding.

Hongjoong knew he would have to follow the plot anyhow, but instead of drinking the alcohol, he would need to plan something to dodge away from this critical situation. Maybe to lead the man away from his primary purpose would be a good idea. “Now that we are starting our marriage, it should be quick since I’ve told my servants not to begin anything else and skipped to the after-the-ceremony. Would you like to eat something?”

But Park Seonghwa had invited Hongjoong to sit down on the chair instead of driving away from his initial purpose. And Hongjoong stopped thinking for a moment.

It was the reverse Uno card for him.

“Sure,” Park Seonghwa looked at him, mouth lifting slightly at the gesture before he started, “If you are so eager to eat, come and sit so we can talk and enjoy our meal _together_.” Then he slowly reached for the wine bottle, planning to pour it into the small cups.

Darn it. The nerve of this man.

Hongjoong couldn’t let this happen, no matter what.

“W-wait, JONGHO!” Hongjoong yelled loudly, summoning the servant inside the room, and Jongho ran in hurriedly, wondering what was happening.

“Yes, Master Kim?”

“Uh… Master Park is hungry. He said he wants to try uh...uh, roasted duck, beef jerky, steamed beef patty, roasted chicken, rice cake, kimchi stew-” 

“I didn’t ask for any of-” The man looked up in surprise. 

“Shut up.” Hongjoong cut him off, “-soy sauce crabs, and also grilled pork belly.” Hongjoong smiled sweetly even though deep inside, he was praying for Jongho to do something. _Anything_.

“Uh…” Jongho looked at them, lost and overwhelmed. “Master-”

“Oh yeah, could you also replace the alcohol? I think it’s over-fermented, must be because we left it out for too long.” He guided his hand toward the bottle, walking closer to pick it up.

But Park Seonghwa was faster, and he snatched the bottle before it even reached the writer’s palm.

“N-no! Don’t take it. I want to drink this bottle.” The dragon sputtered, and Hongjoong bit his lips.

“Why? I tried it earlier; it tasted terrible. Give it to me, and we can try something else.” Hongjoong almost wanted to choke the man so he would release the bottle.

“But I said I want this bottle.” Park Seonghwa was stubborn with his answer, holding onto the bottle tightly.

God, here went the plan B that Hongjoong had. He wanted to stretch some time at least so Mistress Kim could arrive at the place, knowing very well that the lady would be terrifyingly furious right now after reading the letter. Hongjoong preferred to stay alive and listen to her growlings instead of dying under the hand of this asshole. He refused to do so.

But after a moment of bickering, where Park Seonghwa still refused to give him the bottle, Jongho stood noiselessly like a lost child, and Hongjoong was desperate to jump on the dragon and smash the bottle of poison away.

The writer finally huffed and revealed the mask that he had been keeping on; Hongjoong was exhausted from their back-and-forth. He stepped back, “I know you have put poison inside the drink. No need to hide it from me.” At that, Seonghwa jolted his hand. “What poison?” He somehow made himself look like a perfect goodie-two-shoes, and that pissed Hongjoong off to another level.

Ah, here comes the best actor of the year.

Hongjoong mentally rolled his eyes.

Hongjoong turned to Jongho, telling the man to leave so he could talk to the dragon. With chaos brewing between the couple beyond him, Jongho speechlessly walked out of the room, closing the doors as questions scrambled his mind like moths under the streetlights.

“Don’t play dumb. Before walking into the room, I saw your bodyguard jumped through the window.” Hongjoong turned around, walking to where he had seen Song Yimun’s shadow before the man disappeared.

But Hongjoong didn’t know that while his back was against Park Seonghwa, the man secretly swapped the drink with a non-poisoned wine. “I know that I’ve been forceful with you, and this wedding is sudden, but-” The writer turned back again, seeing a swift movement that Seonghwa just made but wasn’t sure what he did. Hongjoong squinted his eyes, checking the dragon. “What was that?”

“What?”

“I saw your hands do something earlier.” 

“I didn’t do anything.” The man shrugged innocently.

So Hongjoong marched toward the table, rechecking the drinks. It looked exactly the same. 

_Strange._

“Back to what I was saying, if you try any funny stuff, my mother will chop off your head,” Hongjoong said, raising his volume a bit, so it sounded threatening (even though he knew it wasn’t).

Park Seonghwa looked at him confidently this time, gesturing at the cups like he knew precisely what he was doing, telling Hongjoong to drink the cursed liquor inside the ceramic teacup, assured.

“There is nothing inside the drink,” he smiled, “why would I poison my _bridegroom_? Fear not.” He held up the cup and gave it to Hongjoong.

No poison? Hongjoong thought, nervously pinning his palm to self soothe. Park Seonghwa looked way more comfortable than he expected, even to the point of offering him the drink. But that made no sense. Hongjoong clearly remembered that Song Yimun must have put in the poison. 

Looking at Park Seonghwa’s fearless expression annoyed him to the core. Something was wrong.

But he wouldn’t know what would happen next if he didn’t try.

_Right?_

Hongjoong prayed that he wouldn’t regret any of his decisions by the end of the day. He suspiciously glanced at Seonghwa, taking the cup that he held. If he died, then he died. He just hoped that his mom would return the iPad Air money once he ended up inside a casket.

The young man hoped that Mistress Kim would be here soon, then put the cup on his mouth, carefully sniffing it.

It smelled alright.

Then he knocked the drink down his throat. The rice wine burned for a moment, making him uncomfortable, where Hongjoong was grimacing from the texture that scratched the side of the esophagus. And he waited.

Park Seonghwa also waited.

They looked at each other for a pregnant minute before Hongjoong realized that nothing had happened.

He was still alive, standing firm and sturdy like an eagle tree.

No...poison.

There was no poison inside the drink.

Hongjoong couldn’t believe in his eyes, while Park Seonghwa smirked at him like he had won the largest lottery.

No, he refused to believe that Park Seonghwa did not put anything inside this room. It was suspicious. 

The young man stared down at the table again, inspecting the next thing that could be considered a perfect poisoning item.

Food.

He silently gasped. Maybe it was the food that Song Yimun poisoned! Hongjoong was sure this time, he grabbed the chopsticks from the table, reaching toward the food. It has to be the food; now that he volunteered to die, Hongjoong would do everything to show this sneaky dragon how evil he was. It had to be inside the food because there was no other way-

He ate the wedding bread on the table and hesitated for a moment, while the dragon had lost track of what Hongjoong was planning to do. He simply settled in his seat for the entertaining close-range sight, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

Once again, nothing happened.

And Hongjoong was _this_ close to losing his mind.

No way, there was no way Park Seonghwa did not plan to poison him. Hongjoong wrote the details with his own hands. This devil must have hidden the poison somewhere. Hongjoong swore he would not leave this room until he knew where the deadly object was; he was adamant.

But looking around for as long as needed, still, he couldn’t find out where the crap Song Yimun inserted the poison; it didn’t make any sense!

Hongjoong stopped to think; in a dangerous situation like this, remaining calm was the best approach. The writer clucked his tongue, checking around one last time to see where would be an ideal place to put poison.

Until his eyes landed on Park Seonghwa’s mouth.

What if… 

Hongjoong widened his eyes, taken back by his thoughts, and looked down at the table, considering the idea again.

If the poison wasn’t on the food, neither on the drink, the only option he had left must be the man’s lips. 

Oh, God.

Why must the higher-ups test his patience this way? He whined. Maybe Song Yimun did not put the poison inside this room, but _on_ Park Seonghwa instead, so that when the wedding ended, Hongjoong would die after the consummation. He silently cursed at Park Seonghwa’s _creative_ method of scheming someone’s death, then mentally yelled at the unseeable sky and his dog-blood luck. The circumstance was getting out of hand.

Park Seonghwa started to look worried, seeing how the shorter had kept silent the whole time. He approached closer, thinking about shaking the man out of his thoughts. But Hongjoong glanced up abruptly, startling the man into retreating his hand. When the dragon opened his mouth to ask what was going on, Hongjoong pushed forward, landing his lips on him.

Everything happened so fast. The dragon forgot to blink as the seconds ticked by, “What-”

When Hongjoong already backed himself up and licked his lips, waiting for a quick death to kick in, Park Seonghwa shockingly covered his lips, staring at Hongjoong in pure horror.

“What did you just-” he growled, but the sound came out muffled under his hand.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong licked his lips again, yet feeling nothing changed inside his body. He furrowed his brows questioningly. He was fine, still healthy, and intact. No symptoms, no sudden death, no pain. Nada.

He couldn’t believe it. Hongjoong looked back at the man who was still sitting on the chair, his hand covering his lips, shakingly pointing the finger at Hongjoong, “You- You just kissed me.”

“I have to check whether you put the poison there. I don’t trust your words.” Hongjoong retorted, scoffing at the latter’s dramatic reaction. It was just a kiss. What was so scary about it? Hongjoong sounded a bit more assured now when nothing occurred. The tension slowly left his body, knowing that he hadn’t died, “What if I ended up dead by tonight if I don’t know what you have kept inside your body? You could be killing me any-” 

“Who is killing my son?” The doors slammed open with a destructive force as a woman stepped inside. Two lines of servants and guards followed her tracks, emerging from the hallway. Hongjoong didn’t even have to use half of a brain-cell to know that this lady was one dangerous character. The guards pulled out their swords at Park Seonghwa, and she raised her hand, signaling for them to stop.

She scrutinized the room, then turned to the couple in front of her, observing their outfits.

Hongjoong didn’t know what he would have to do in certain circumstances, but the very first rule when he saw someone scary, he could only do one thing; bow. So he did exactly that. The dragon stood up instantly, following his action. Park Seonghwa also knew what was up.

They bowed at her, carefully watching the lady’s reaction. Hongjoong’s back sweated as the heavy air floated in the atmosphere, and Mistress Kim watched every movement he made. The young man swallowed his dry throat. 

“What did you do this time, Kim Hongjoong?” She asked, her voice was piercing and deadly, enough to send chills to Hongjoong’s bones.

“Mother, I-”

She turned to Seonghwa; this time, Hongjoong could genuinely feel the breeze shoot straight to where Seonghwa stood. Despite her being the queen of the phoenixes, Mistress Kim was cold and ruthless. “And you,” her voice was spooky, an octave lower than when she had talked to Hongjoong, “what is your purpose here, Parks’ son?”

Park Seonghwa quickly bowed down, “I am here to carry the message that the Parks clan had announced. We have agreed with the conditions and are now sending me to the Kim palace for the courting ritual.”

Mistress Kim watched the dragon with calculated movements; in her hand was a golden embroidered fan. Her long dress reached the floor, incandescent with sparkles of fire. Hongjoong speechlessly thanked all the drama editors and producers in the world. CGI was amazing. 

The lady folded her fan and spoke, “Well done, yet, it seems to me that you might need to court another Kims’ child than the one we have set up for,” she sighed, looking up to Hongjoong with irritation. The young writer swallowed in his throat again.

It wasn’t him who stole the wedding; it was Kim Gong. Even though he knew that he was the one who made the storyline up, he felt wronged in a sense, especially in this situation. Kim Hongjoong, the youngest child from the Kims clan, would have no courage to do such a thing. Only Kim Gong could.

Mistress Kim waved her hand lightly, and the guards resumed their stances, waiting for her order.

“Lock him up.” Her voice pierced through the air. Park Seonghwa looked up in shock, and Hongjoong stared at the guards rushing toward where Seonghwa was, arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Why? Mother, you don’t have to do that!” The lady was firm with her words, walking out of the room. 

Hongjoong was devastated while chasing from behind. Once they were out of the doors, Hongjoong looked at where Mistress Kim waved her hand. Slowly from the crowded guards appeared a man in a black outfit.

Hongjoong had to squint his eyes to see. It was pitch dark outside. The more the young man observed the stranger, the more familiar he felt. For the first time after waking up from this strange dream, Hongjoong thought he saw someone he knew.

Two guards have also gripped the man’s arms securely, “I have found him wandering outside of the place,” the phoenix queen told him calmly, “by the outfit, this is one of the Parks clan’s guards. Even if the Parks’ son came here in peace, I do not trust such a stranger that worked under the Dragons’ army to wander inside my territory.” 

The closer the man got to him, Hongjoong gasped, finally seeing who was in the black outfit.

“Mingi?” He said quietly, almost like a mumble.

Mingi glanced up at the voice, staring at Hongjoong strangely as if he didn’t understand how the writer even knew his name. But Hongjoong did know Mingi. Maybe not this story script Mingi, but the actual in-real-life Mingi.

Song Mingi was his co-worker.

He didn’t understand why Mingi would be in this place and had no idea where the man came from until he realized the last name.

Song.

Song Yimun.

Song Mingi.

Oh, God…

So Song Yimun had now turned into Song Mingi, and Hongjoong thought he might need a quick therapy session once he’s awake.

As Mistress Kim continued on her way, heading back to the Kims clan, Hongjoong wordlessly stared at the two figures that felt so familiar- yet so foreign being hauled away.

* * *

“Master, I don’t think this is a good idea-“

“Shhh,” Hongjoong flipped his hand in front of Jongho’s face, signaling for the man to hush up. “If they notice us, it’s your loud mouth’s fault.” He slowly poked out from the corner of the wall, lurking at the group of people whispering from behind, then turned back and peaked inside the room.

Mistress Kim had taken the two men back to the palace. However, rather than locking them up inside the torture basement, the lady led them to a room beside the throne room. Usually, this room was used for guests whenever there were visitors from the neighboring clans. Hongjoong watched the guards taking them inside the chamber in wonder.

What was Mistress Kim planning to do?

After most of the guards marched out of place, Hongjoong snuck closer to the curtains that took the role of a door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

It was a heated one.

“And what are you going to tell your parents, Parks’ son? That you have failed your mission?” Mistress Kim said, her voice was loud and clear.

“Your Highness, would there be any other ways for this treaty to happen? I’m afraid the Parks would not accept this.” Park Seonghwa responded; he sounded forceful, uncomfortable. “Our family had never had this kind of marriage before; this is against the Parks clan’s principles.” Hongjoong could slightly see the man kneeling on his knees, with hands raised in a respectful gesture.

Mingi stood still in a corner with his wrists tied up tightly, unmoving.

“Are you telling me that you have entered my palace to go against the Kims clan’s principles because of something you cannot accept?” The woman angrily retorted, waving her fan slowly. “Remember, dragon, this is my realm with my rules, and it is _you_ who must follow them.” She huffed, “I can’t believe my son had married someone like you.”

Seonghwa looked up, seeming even more nervous than earlier, “Mistress Kim, I am not doing this because I am against marrying a man, I’m only doing this for my clan, it is-“

“Enough!” She growled, “as long as you are here, you shall obey the Kims’ rules. I will not allow anything else. If not, this treaty is needless, and I will take your throat right now.” She folded her fan, pointing at the man. 

“Your Highness,” Park Seonghwa weakly called, 

But the woman contained no mercy for him, “if a war would occur, then shall be it, I do not condemn any disrespectful behavior. We will assume that all of this has never happened, and you will have your punishment.” She spoke roughly, looking up from the dragon with a disgusted expression. The man tried to reason again, but the phoenix queen refused to hear it.

Hongjoong gasped at the scene folding in front of him. 

This couldn’t be it? Park Seonghwa was the main character; if he died now, what if Hongjoong could not return? And why would he die so fast? He was supposed to be the _main character._ This story was Hongjoong’s script, not a scene from _Game of Thrones_?

Lord, at least let the man die somewhere by the end of the story, not now! Hongjoong bit his lips, frustrated at the hot-blooded lady and the hopeless man on the floor.

He had to do something.

Park Seonghwa could not die here.

Before Mistress Kim could swing her fan toward the dragon, Hongjoong yelled, running out from his hiding spot and rushed near the older man. Jongho had been watching everything, seeing his master jumping outward eagerly, he rose, “W-wait, Master Kim!”

“Mother!” Hongjoong shouted in panic, “Please don’t kill him.” He ran towards Park Seonghwa, bowing down to the lady. Mistress Kim widened her eyes, staring at her son curling on the ground in surprise. “He has done nothing wrong,” Hongjoong said, straining his voice, so it sounded pitiful; all just to get them both away from this situation safely, “If you want to punish, punish me instead, please spare his life.” 

The dragon had reacted to him in shock, still kneeling on the ground. Hongjoong bowed again, biting his lips, even more, hiding his face away from the two of them so neither of them could catch his fake gagging.

This storyline had slowly become some Rated A melodrama.

But then, if there was anything he knew the best from Mistress Kim, it was the endless love that the lady had for Kim Gong. She would never dare to harm her son despite any method. 

If Hongjoong’s plead could stop her, he had nothing else to complain about.

Mistress Kim instantly hesitated at the words, and her fan was still lingering midair. “My child, what are you doing this for? This is none of your business.” She warned, but Hongjoong was stubborn enough to look up.

“Mother, of course, it is. He has now become my groom. As long as it is his business, it is also mine. I can’t let you do this to him.” 

The woman was bewildered, “Didn’t you hear what he just said?!”

Of course, Hongjoong knew what Park Seonghwa just said. He wrote the Dragons’ clan with his own hands. But just because a few older adults inside the group were a bunch of homophobes, it didn’t mean she could lash out at the wrong person.

Besides, he knew that this Dragon was probably just doing what he had learned from his family’s rule. Park Yoon was a strict man, after all. He would always put heavy responsibilities on his shoulders and carried them all by himself.

But Hongjoong knew the man would not be someone against same-sex marriage. Especially not under his pen.

Hongjoong wrote his scripts long enough to know that as long as he was gay, his characters would probably be gayer. (It was a way to cope with stress, not very technical, but really, can anyone blame him for that?)

Nevertheless, while Hongjoong was much calmer, the phoenix queen was the exact definition of an erupted volcano.

“What Parks clan’s principles? Huh? What is wrong when he marries you? Other ways? What if the Parks won’t accept this?” Lady Kim roared, “Excuses! I cannot allow such a filthy thing to be a part of our family.” Before Hongjoong could talk to her again, she swung her fan, aiming straight at Park Seonghwa. 

No, no, no. 

_Goddamn it! Ma’am, please hold your horses!_ Hongjoong mentally shouted.

At that moment, the young writer had many regrets until he had no regrets at all.

Because sometimes, people tended to do dumb things when they were on the brink of death.

Maybe not his, but Park Seonghwa’s death.

Hongjoong shrieked like his rent was due tomorrow.

“But I love him!” His eyes closed, reaching to embrace a frozen Park Seonghwa while anticipating the attack coming from the lady’s fan. His scream was almost catching the attention of the people surrounding outside of the chamber. 

Jongho gasped dramatically from behind the curtain.

Mingi’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

And Park Seonghwa stared at him with his mouth wide open. 

But the impact never came, and when Hongjoong slowly opened one of his eyes, still hugging the dragon, the woman observed the young couple with an unpredictable face, holding back her hand in hesitation.

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa now, and the man stared back. His body was stiff as a rock. The man mouthed at him secretly.

_Since when? What in the living hell?_

Hongjoong glanced over annoyed, mumbled back,

_I’m saving your dumbass right now, idiot. Just play along. You better thank me after._

_But I’m not asking for your help?_

_That doesn’t mean I should let you die?_

The dragon paused at the words, looking at Hongjoong with many thoughts flashed through his mind. He had not expected that clap-back, especially from someone as brutal and ignorant as Kim Hongjoong, the youngest son of the Kims’ family. After a short moment of debating with himself whether he should follow the lead, in the end, the man sighed, staying still so that Hongjoong could do whatever he wanted.

Hongjoong nodded assuredly, understanding Park Seonghwa’s decision.

Mistress Kim had witnessed the scene with her own eyes, silently observing the two men without a word.

Hongjoong turned around again, pleading with her to let the dragon live, and guaranteed that the man would not leave Hongjoong’s side. Park Seonghwa wanted to protest at the writer’s proposal, so Hongjoong pinned his hips, and the latter let out a hiss.

Park Seonghwa painfully gazed at him with a _what-the-fuck?_ stare.

Hongjoong glanced at him in warning.

_Don’t you dare fuck things up again after what I just said._

The dragon faltered, stopping words from leaving his mouth, then gave a soulless grimace to Mistress Kim, nodding at Hongjoong’s words.

The phoenix queen sharply watched them with her bullet eyes until she huffed, folded her fan back wholly, then walked out of the room with a head shake. This was the result of giving her son too much authority in her heart. 

“Just do what you want to do.” The lady said before stepping out of the room, “If you cross the line again,” she dangerously warned, “I will not let it go like this next time. As long as you are in my territory, you obey my rules. Now that Hongjoong has chosen you; do not dare to have external thoughts. I will not change things otherwise, and you will not reject this marriage. What’s done is done.”

Once the phoenix queen was out of sight, Hongjoong could finally let his guard down and exhaled tiredly. He pushed himself away from the dragon, then dropped down, lying on the floor. If life could have sound effects, this would probably be the Windows shutdown song right now. Hongjoong stared up at the white ceiling, feeling like ten years of his age just passed by in a flash.

Dear God. Hongjoong was not paid enough for this.

Jongho hurriedly ran to where he was, trying to push the phoenix prince up.

Park Seonghwa could finally stand up now, walking to where Mingi was so he could unlock the chain. The dragon had never been this hopeless with someone, and Mistress Kim had made him feel like a real supervillain from the beginning to the end. Yet, in fact, the reason why he was here purely because of Kim Hongjoong. 

Even if he had saved the dragon earlier, Park Seonghwa swore he still needed to squeeze the life out of Kim Hongjoong one day for all the unfortunate events that the man had brought into his life.

The longer the Phoenix lived, the longer the Dragon endured through his dog days.

If he could, Park Seonghwa would like to find the magical medication and leave this burning hell as soon as possible.

Kim Hongjoong, assumedly, was the last person Park Seonghwa wanted to be with.

* * *

Hongjoong had suggested the dragons meeting up with Kang Yeosang, the Kims’ physician, to treat their wrists’ burns.

At first, Mingi was hesitant, Hongjoong assumed that it must be from his role as the Parks’ son’s bodyguard, but he had joked that if Mingi died by tonight, it was none of Hongjoong’s business. 

He knew the in-real-life Song Mingi was a scaredy-cat.

Hilariously, this Song Mingi was also one.

The bodyguard had bluntly stared at the older dragon for help, questioning between the lines if he should give in, and Park Seonghwa, as unwilling as he had been since the beginning of this story, surprised Hongjoong by agreeing to seek aid from the Kims.

Maybe he understood that he had no other way, after all. And Hongjoong smiled, feeling a bit sorry for the two.

But he knew that if it wasn’t Park Seonghwa who fell into this situation, Hongjoong himself would be the given pawn.

The writer remembered describing Kang Yeosang as the head healer in their clan, a calm and collected peacock that appeared more outstanding than the others of his kind. He wasn’t sure if this character’s name also got changed, so he called Jongho over.

“Jongho,” the young servant walked from the back, peeking his head up, “Could you lead them to Physician Kang Yeosang’s ward?”

Jongho nodded attentively, “Sure thing, Master.” Then he moved toward the dragons, pulling a yelping Mingi, who hadn’t expected the servant to be _this_ strong, and a bewildered Park Seonghwa chased behind. Hongjoong sighed in relief.

Good, so far, it was only him, Mingi, and Mars stuck inside this crazy dream. He didn’t think he would still be sane by the time his whole ancestors entered his unconscious head.

Well, that better not be happening.

He followed the three figures ahead of him, praying for things to be less tangled.

As they walked toward the medication palace, Hongjoong noticed that Park Seonghwa sometimes looked down into his arm’s cloak, pushing something back into its place. Feeling suspicious, the writer sneaked up closer, checking to see what the little hiding subject inside the dragon’s blue clothes was.

When he was close enough to figure out the wiggling thing on the side of the dragon’s hand, he yelped in recognition.

“Little Mountain!” Seonghwa looked back at the voice in bafflement.

He recalled Little Mountain. Park Yoon’s spirit animal. A beautiful, black Russian rat snake with yellow stripes on its body. Hongjoong forgot about the little pet up until this point. Little Mountain was still small, but Hongjoong knew it could personify itself into a human form in just a few more weeks.

“Right? It’s Little Mountain, right?” Hongjoong asked in excitement and went up to Park Seonghwa’s side to pull up his cloak. The snake stopped moving, staring up at Hongjoong at the surprised exposure, then looking back to its owner, questioning.

Park Seonghwa hurriedly pushed the fabric down to hide it.

“H-how, how did you know about Little Mountain?” He sputtered.

And now, it was Hongjoong’s turn to panic.

‘O-oh, well, I uh, I think I heard someone talk about it before. You know how many gossipers we have around here, they talk about everything.” He waved his hand distractedly, and the dragon squinted his eyes, examined. 

“It’s my spirit animal. Besides my mother, nobody else knew about it.”

At the words, Hongjoong was stunned, “W-well, just know that I also know about it.” He reasoned warily, “Don’t take confidence over your secrets. Just because you think you have never shown it to anybody doesn’t mean nobody has seen it. There could be someone from Dispatch watching over you, who knows?”

“Dispatch?” Park Seonghwa asked in confusion.

And Hongjoong jolted, forgetting for a moment that he was somewhere else, definitely not Korea.

Well, technically, yes. But not modern South Korea.

“Nothing.” He weakly yelped, “Ignore that. Anyway, I knew it from someone else, end of story. Now hurry up and treat your wound.” Then he pushed the man so he would walk faster.

“Wait-“ Park Seonghwa lost a bit of his balance, trying to catch up with the pace pushing him from behind; protests were ready to leave his mouth.

“Just go,” Hongjoong growled impatiently, so the Dragon shut his mouth after.

Hongjoong sighed in relief when the taller man had no longer desired to interact with him.

Regardless, as the four of them head toward Physician’s Kang’s chamber, Hongjoong was desperately begging for someone to slap him awake. 

Even if his mom decided to visit and slammed the iPad Air into his face, Hongjoong would still kiss her with a thank you.

_God._

His patience and brain cells were slowly decaying the more he remained inside this story.

Someone... _Anyone_...Please just get him out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the angst tag is there, but just a quick heads up for you that the entire existence of this story is mainly for comic relief, and i am using the last eight braincells i can muster from the crack of my brain nerve to express my dry humor.
> 
> i hope you have a good laugh hehe


	3. Well...About the Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me a while to post this chap bc I had this important interview and i needed times to prepare and stuff, so sorry for the delay i finally have time now to continue :( go ahead and hate me for that
> 
> but the good thing is....*drum rolls* i passed the interview hehe
> 
> mai (skjinxin) had beta-read this, pls pat her and give a cookie cuz she deserves
> 
> i've come back with more cracks and dry humor, i hope you have a blast w this chapter :> happy reading!

he walk toward Physician Kang's ward went by quicker than the writer had thought.

"Hongjoong-ah!" A high, melodic voice echoed through the hallway, alerting the four figures.

A character sped towards them in a rush, her hands holding a burning blade as it shone through the hall. The young writer had never seen this young lady before, but judging from the beautiful pins in her hair, he assumed that it was Kim Hwangmi.

“Nunim!” he breathed, smiling at her; the lady was wearing a white dress with gold feathers embroidered on the edge. She was a beautiful lady, but her beauty was sharp, almost like a crystal rose amid December. She was honed and cold. She walked powerfully, approaching their standing with a confident aura. Yet, in between her steps, there were hints of worry showing across her face.

“I haven’t seen you at the Lotus Circle, and you have been missing for hours! What happened? Mother said that you got married! I haven’t seen you for a day, and you have come out causing troubles.” She approached Hongjoong with staggered remarks, hand lifted with her blade as the lady placed it into her hip. She must have gotten out from training practice. Hongjoong could see a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.

“Sorry, I…It was a long story,…Uhm…” Hongjoong stumbled across his words, wondering how he should explain the situation. ”I didn’t mean to-“

“Hongjoong,” Hwangmi sighed, her shoulders shuddered slightly as she spoke, rearranging her posture. “You can leave the explanation after, but please don’t do this again. Everyone has been worried sick about you.” Then, turning toward the man besides Hongjoong, she bowed politely, “You must be Park Seonghwa. Presumably, Mother had arranged the marriage between us. Still, the circumstances have led to this point; I am flustered to say that you must be taken aback by everything. I sincerely apologize.” She nodded briefly, having to explain her perspective, “since it is my brother who has taken an interest in you, I should leave him to your care and hope for the best treatment. He might be young and reckless, but he’s not a bad kid.” She smiled, speaking loud and clear, just like Mistress Kim.

They are mother and daughter for a reason, Hongjoong thought. 

At the young lady’s accusations about the stolen marriage, however, Hongjoong was ready to defend his actions; except, the lady continued, “Despite what happened these two days, I hope that you won’t take it to heart, only if he ever did anything wrong, of course. It seems like our fate isn’t connected with this marriage, but please don’t neglect him. He’s still a kid, and there are many things that he does not yet understand.”

Park Seonghwa had bowed back at her, every movement as cautious as possible, “Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness. It sure is sudden for me, but under Mistress Kim’s supervision, I am on my journey to accommodate.”

Then they nodded in acknowledgment.

Hongjoong stood still like a brick.

Wait… 

This was _not_ what it was supposed to be.

They were the main characters, and suddenly Hongjoong was the victim on top of the dish. Nothing had made sense ever since he woke up, but the young man could not let this happen. Something must happen for them to be together.

This tension shouldn’t be there, Hongjoong thought, if there was an option for them to loosen up, the young writer would like to follow it in the best way possible. If the future ended up with him being the wingman, so be it. He must make this story flow once again.

“W-why don’t you guys talk more with each other?” He asked nervously, “we will be a family after, aren’t we? It’s good to have some small talk. How about you guys get to know one another while I go do something right now.” He led them, wanting to leave the two over here as he silently fled the crime scene. But Park Seonghwa had pulled him back fast enough for it to happen. 

“Kim Hongjoong,” he said grimly, still feeling foreign with the setting beyond his view, “I am still very much unfamiliar with this place. It would be nice if you could remain here to guide me around. Besides, I have to treat my wounds. _You_ said that yourself.”

“You can ask help from Hwangmi-nunim,” Hongjoong awkwardly patted the latter’s shoulder, then dragged the lady toward him. She looked between them with a confused _‘huh?’_ while her wrist was being tugged forward, “she will help you around. For the wounds, just follow Jongho; he’s the one taking you anyways, not me. Alright? Are we good? Okay? If there is no objection, I will leave now. Haha. You two can talk. I just remembered something came up, so I have to deal with it now. Alright, later, bye!” Before he rushed away, leaving a stuttering dragon, who could barely yelp a “W-wait!” until Hongjoong was out of sight.

 _Phew…_

That was terrifyingly dangerous.

Hongjoong had no choice but to leave the two of them alone in order for the story to progress in the way it was supposed to.

He felt terrible for leaving the other man, but Hongjoong knew he would be fine. After all, he was a dragon. His survival instinct should be higher than a mere phoenix prince like him. If Hongjoong could stay invisible to those two while he minded his business, Hongjoong had hope that the story would flow smoothly. The world should still be spinning until the chapter that he had stopped writing arrived.

And Hongjoong should be able to wake up once said chapter occurred.

Good Lord, Hongjoong couldn’t wait for that moment to happen.

* * *

As if the higher-ups had contributed a big, fat role in trolling Hongjoong, it turned out that Park Seonghwa and Kim Hwangmi didn’t talk after. 

After his sudden fleeing and spending two hours kicking rocks on the fountain near his palace, Hongjoong entered the medical ward with a nervous feeling.

But before rice could be made into porridge (as he had hoped), reality had slashed on his eyes harshly.

Reality was a bitch.

Jongho had said with his eager mouth about what happened after he left; Park Seonghwa excused himself to follow the servant toward Physician Kang’s palace. And he had highlighted, which Hongjoong shall repeat, that Park Seonghwa straightened-up rejected Hongjoong’s imaginary sister for a walk, turning coldly around her while the lady had stood there, confused at the duality.

Jongho, who still didn’t catch Hongjoong’s disturbing reaction, continued with his smug voice, smiling at the man proudly, “As he should!" He said, “I know that Her Highness probably didn’t mean anything serious. But Master Kim, you shouldn’t have left him alone like that. He’s your husband, after all. I knew you would return, so I told him to wait inside the resting room. I’m glad that Master Park had rejected her for a walk because,” then he giggled like some high school girl, softly punching on Hongjoong’s shoulder. To the phoenix… That was a big slap on his face, “because he must be catching feelings for you even if it’s just a little bit.” 

HUH???

Hongjoong widely watched his servant, half furious and half terrified.

Please don’t tell him that Jongho was shipping him and Park Seonghwa…God…

No.

And _that_ was not supposed to happen, either.

What the fuck were his main characters doing?!

“Jongho!” Hongjoong angrily slapped his back, growling, “you should have convinced them to go together! I did that on purpose because I wanted them to be together!”

“W-what?” Jongho sputtered, completely puzzled. “B-but aren’t you and Master Park-“ 

Hongjoong had had enough.

“No, we are not! I don’t want to be with him. I forced him to be with me, and now I don’t want that, that’s why I’m-” Hongjoong paused, too upset to continue. “You know what? Nevermind. Where is he now?” He asked hurriedly, and Jongho pointed toward a room warily. 

Hongjoong marched in. Jongho followed from behind, his face looked down with a weight of apology.

“Make sure also to wrap this around your wrists every night- Ah, Master Kim, good to see you.” Physician Kang Yeosang spoke up, calmly massaging the dragon’s wrist, who had settled down on a chair near a counter. The man looked up at Hongjoong, and the writer stood there, at a loss of words. 

_Wow._ His brain helpfully inserted.

He had described Kang Yeosang as a beautiful man.

He just didn’t expect him to be _this_ beautiful.

Hongjoong nervously laughed to himself that even if Park Seonghwa and Kim Hwangmi fell in love, Hongjoong would probably fall in love with this guy before them.

 _Okay,_ he snapped himself out of the daydream as quick as it had come, _back to the topic._

“How are they doing, Physician Kang?” He asked composedly, walked toward the counter where they were sitting. Yeosang nodded, recounting his observations, “nothing too serious, your Highness, just external injuries. I suggest wrapping these cold paddings around the burns for a few days, and they should be fine.”

Hongjoong approved in understanding.

_So basically, these pads are Salonpas, but make it ancient._

And Hongjoong was amazed by how advanced things have already become regardless of the gap in time.

Or maybe Hongjoong’s insertion in this story had become more futuristic the more he lingered inside it.

“Great. I’m uh, just here to take a quick look. Now that they are fine, I guess I will leave.” Hongjoong said, purposely dodging the glances coming from the other two men beside Yeosang as they watched him with a questioning expression. The dragons must have been surprised, not expecting the young writer to leave them behind like that, but seriously, Hongjoong didn’t even know what he was supposed to do with them beside him.

Hongjoong knew that Park Seonghwa was not alone.

Even if Mistress Kim had captured Mingi outside of the main palace when they held the wedding ceremony, Park Seonghwa was the dragon prince. The Parks’ clan wouldn’t be reckless to send him here with one mere bodyguard without extra preparation. He knew that there would be eyes and ears all around the palace. At least in hideable places.

Hongjoong recalled describing this palace wide enough for some dark cracks outside the castle walls a few kilometers. The approximate distance between Park Seonghwa and Park Hwangmi to the hideout would be two incense sticks for the Park’s soldiers to arrive. Hongjoong wasn’t stupid. Park Seonghwa would soon command his minions to ambush him, kill him, and approach Kim Hwangmi since it would be the only way for his clan to accept the marriage and for him to search for the cure.

In conclusion, Hongjoong would still die if he was careless for one second.

And that was the last thing the young writer could ask for.

He wanted to create the distance between himself and the dragon, pushing the relationship from the red thread that _should_ be connected between the latter and his sister, then prevent either of them from an unexpected death.

Hongjoong should have been an actor with all this work. Insane.

Not only did he have to act naive and dense to keep his image, or specifically, Kim Gong’s appearance, he also had to be the Cupid for his main characters, at the same time, watching over his life like a hawk.

Hongjoong was sure that he had never worked this hard in his life. If attaining a concussion inside this place would regain his reality awareness, Hongjoong would do that instantly.

But it was easier said than done.

Hongjoong moved on with an inconsiderate shrug, ignoring the constant staring from the two strangers sitting at the counter while he headed out. Jongho had been by the door the whole time, seeing the young man walking out, he innocently asked, “Where are you heading to this time, Master Kim? I must know in case Mistress Kim demands.”

Hongjoong sighed, not wanting to exhaust himself anymore. But the servant’s question was unanswered, and he didn’t like to leave people hanging.

“Just… I want to get some air. Guide them into their resting room before I return.” He gradually spoke, then walked away from Yeosang’s chamber. But Jongho’s next sentence halted his step, and Hongjoong turned around with panicked eyes.

“Master Kim, are you going to Yarrow Bough’s brothel again?”

_What?_

Hongjoong looked at the young servant confusedly until he realized that… right… Kim Gong was the biggest playboy anyone could ask for, and generally, at this hour, he tended to sneak out to the downtown’s “entertaining location.”

Goddamn it, Hongjoong totally forgot about this.

“You are going _where_?” Hongjoong's head snapped toward the sound, locating where the dragon was sitting; his posture stiffened as he raised his eyebrows at the writer, deadened.

“N-nowhere?” Why the fuck was Hongjoong shaking? It wasn’t like he was heading toward the brothel. But Park Seonghwa’s eyes were piercing and cold. Very cold. 

Jongho stepped in, blocking Park Seonghwa’s intense stares, but Hongjoong had regretted letting the man do so after. Oh God, the young man had so many regrets about his life decisions, and one of them was for Jongho to talk this much.

“You don’t know, Master Park. But our Master always attended whenever the brothel had any celebration. Everyone in there loved him, men or women, and Master Kim would stay back until the next morning. He is the talk of the town.”

 _Choi Jongho!_ Hongjoong mentally screamed, _are you trying to dig your own master’s grave?!_ His eyes were wide, terrified, and bewildered.

Park Seonghwa sat there silently, but Hongjoong knew he would be lying in a puddle of blood already if looks can kill. But why was the dragon offended? That was out of the shorter man’s knowledge.

Jongho still had the balls to grin after those words, secretly giving a thumbs-up to Hongjoong, and whispered once he turned around, “I did good, right? You said you don’t want to be with him, so I’m lending you a hand.”

 _Jongho-ah… you are murdering your master without realizing right now,_ Hongjoong’s brain pitifully supplied. But all that could come out from the young man’s mouth was a weak “yeah…”

Great, Park Seonghwa would assume him as a jerk and a player by now. Hongjoong thought his day couldn’t get any better. Instead of looking back to where the dragon was, he heaved a sigh and walked out of the place. He didn’t want to turn around and witness any more shocking expressions. When he reached the gates, the writer rushed out of the ward as soon as possible.

Once he escaped away from the Kims’ palace, Hongjoong stood to think clearly. 

So far… Nothing had gone according to the plan. So, in order to organize the script, he needed some time to rearrange his story plots. Everything had now gone south, and he must clean this mess up before Hongjoong drove himself insane.

But Hongjoong couldn’t do this himself… This story was made by him, but at this point, the writer was afraid that it no longer orbited the way it should. Especially when Park Seonghwa had _rejected_ talking to Kim Hwangmi and now stuck by Hongjoong like a lost baby bird.

Kim Hwangmi was the female lead, Kim Gong was the background character. They were not the same. He wondered what the crap was bouncing around in Park Seonghwa’s brain that made the man set his priorities at the wrong place. But it wasn’t like Hongjoong could talk some sense into the man’s head.

After a moment of walking in silence, profoundly considering what his next move was, Hongjoong snapped his finger. 

First of all, he should seek more help. Maybe from other sources that could look at the situation as a whole without being involved. Unlike Hongjoong, when he felt as if he had fallen into a dead-end. But who would be ideal to seek help, especially when it came to a similar occupation as his?

A-ha! A story-teller. He could ask for help from story-tellers.

But these old men would only work in places with many people. Either at a theater, some rich people’s houses, or… 

Fuck.

A brothel.

So Hongjoong still had to go to a brothel to ask for help.

How ironic.

No, no, no. Hold on, he remembered. There was one more option.

A restaurant.

Some restaurants did hire story-tellers back then. He nodded thoughtfully, then heading toward the closest Five-star Michelin looking restaurant that he could assume, praying to the Buddhas that there would be some sort of scriptwriting people there.

Because Hongjoong was lost and totally needed some help from some strangers. _Definitely._

* * *

“I have gathered the best story-tellers in downtown, Master Kim.” The restaurant’s owner bowed at him, nervously peeked out from his Gat* to view the phoenix prince.

“Good. Thank you,” Hongjoong nodded curtly, dropping a bag of gold into the man’s hand, then he waved his hand, “lead the way.”

The man nodded back respectfully, then escorted the writer toward a big room with a large table of food. Inside was a cozy dining place, with soft flower embroidered cushions. The wallpaper was designed with branches of cherry blossoms, and a few calligraphy decorations were hung. 

As he stepped inside, Hongjoong noticed there were three more men.

But he gasped because he knew exactly who these men were.

“Lee Minhyuk?” Hongjoong spoke in perplexed, his jaw almost dropped to the ground.

“A-and you, you are also Lee Minhyuk.” He pointed at the second guy in the room, then turned to the last one, almost screeching his shock across the whole building. “And you too! You are also Lee Minhyuk!”

The three men have looked back at him, sharing the same expression as they stared at each other, clearly confused.

Wonderful. Hongjoong was confused, too.

“Your Highness, do you know us?” one of the Minhyuks said, looking up at him, pondering. 

Of-fucking-course he knew them.

At this point, maybe not the characters, but if he had to say, he knew precisely who they were in real life. On the left, Lee Minhyuk from Block B’s gaze was boring straight into his soul. One of his favorite idol groups whenever Hongjoong was down for some stress relief. In the middle was Lee Minhyuk from Monsta X, another group that Mingi, his real-life co-worker, was a massive fan of. Last but not least, on the right was Lee Minhyuk from BTOB, also known as the one who asked him the question earlier. BTOB was Hongjoong and Mingi’s karaoke room group whenever they were too drunk to know what was real and what was not. Their ballad phrases, their screaming stress reliever, and BTOB’s songs were the go-to picks whenever Hongjoong stepped into the karaoke coin machine room. He could be fanboying over these groups all day and skip over the due date of his drafts, unbothered by the world.

Yet, as frightening as it was, all three of them had stared at Hongjoong as if _he_ was the famous guy. Hongjoong thought he would pee his pants if this ever happened in reality.

What in the world was happening?!

Why would three Lee Minhyuks appear in his dream?

“A...are they the best ones you could find?” Hongjoong turned to question the restaurant owner, and the man responded.

“Yes, they are the best storytellers in this town. Why, Your Highness? Are they not reaching your expectations? Would you like me to find someone else?” 

“Nonononono-“ Hongjoong stopped the older man before he even turned his back, “This is fine, thank you. I will talk to them. Please give us some space.”

The man bowed politely before walking out, closing the door.

Hongjoong watched him disappear from his sight, before then turning around. As three Lee Minhyuks looked at him curiously, the young phoenix prince sighed.

Things were starting to get out of his control.

And Hongjoong did not know how to solve any of these problems. Definitely.

The young writer eyed the three strangers before him, pondering his next words. Then he exhaled exhaustedly. Hongjoong wasn’t paid enough for this.

“Now, how should I start?”

* * *

“So there are a bunny, a panther, and a hedgehog.” BTOB Lee Minhyuk concluded.

“Yes.”

“And you want us to make a story out of them, where the bunny and the panther fall in love.” Block B Lee Minhyuk continued.

“Yes.”

“However, the hedgehog had stolen the marriage before the panther even got to propose to the bunny, and the panther is planning to kill the hedgehog, but the hedgehog cannot die.” Then Monsta X Lee Minhyuk ended.

Hongjoong hesitated, “........yes.”

“So basically,” Block B Minhyuk spoke, “you want us to save the hedgehog but still be able to make the bunny and the panther fall in love.”

“Yes.” Hongjoong nodded.

Monsta X Minhyuk stared at him for a second, then he exhaled tiredly, “Your Highness, either you kick us out of here instantly, or you give up; I don’t think there’s another appropriate method for the panther and the bunny to fall in love without killing the hedgehog. It’s the main reason that the other two can’t get together. Besides, it’s a drama, you have to make it dramatic. Killing and betrayal must be included. We have to make it reach the climax.”

Hongjoong’s face paled, “B-but… Can’t you just think of something? No killing, we are keeping it Rated G. Come on, anything, I _paid_ to talk to you guys. Just give me a little suggestion, and I will see what I can do next, _please_.” He whined, nearly at the edge of desperation. “The hedgehog cannot d-die, by any cost.”

“But if the hedgehog is still there, the panther would still kill it,” BTOB Minhyuk pointed out, “And even if the panther doesn’t kill it, the marriage between the two of them would be the biggest obstacle to make the bunny converse with the panther. It’s the only option now, kill the hedgehog.”

“N-no! No! I said don’t kill the hedgehog. He did nothing wrong. Can’t you think of any plot twists for it?” Hongjoong panicked.

“But what can we say when the hedgehog stole the wedding and messed up the whole clan’s treaty? _Death_ is the only option, Your Highness.” Block B Minhyuk looked at him weirdly, “I mean, sure, he didn’t commit a crime or anything, but taking the bunny’s groom away does sound kinda evil. At this point, his character is already being hated by the audience. Unless you have any suggestions yourself.”

_Then what the fuck was the point for me to hire you guys???_

The young writer gazed at them in disbelief, then he groaned exhaustedly, “Whatever it takes,” he stared at them carefully, “You must think of a solution where neither of them dies, no killing. I want it vegan, so keep it vegan. At the end of the day, those two must fall in love, and the hedgehog must remain alive.”

The three men looked at him conflicted, not wanting to take the task.

And Hongjoong’s stomach churned.

“Please,” he pleaded, “I’m begging you.”

The room fell silent for some time. The young writer gulped at the lump that stuck in his throat, his lips dried despite the number of times he had licked it, and his heart thumped nervously.

It was Monsta X Lee Minhyuk who broke the heavy atmosphere with a devastated exhale, “We will try, Your Highness. We might not be able to give you a satisfying script, but we will think of something.”

Block B Minhyuk looked at the man like he had just lost his mind, “And what exactly is that going to be, Minhyuk-nim? This is a difficult task; just because his Highness is requesting this of us it doesn’t mean it is within our capabilities. And if we can’t think of anything, who is going to take responsibility-“

Monsta X Minhyuk slammed his hand on the table that they were sitting around, making all of them flinch, “We can do it!” He looked up at Hongjoong, eyeing the man with an unreadable expression, “Take pride in your job. After all, you have me. I am Lee Minhyuk. The best storyteller here.”

Both BTOB and Block B Lee Minhyuks huffed, “and we are?”

“Also Lee Minhyuk,” Monsta X Minhyuk grinned cheekily, “Honestly though, there can be a few ways; I’m not fooling around, we can make up something.” He assured, setting his palms on the table. “Actually, I’ve thought of something.”

Hongjoong glanced at him, eager to hear what the man had to say.

“How about this,” Monsta X Minhyuk squinted his eyes mysteriously, “the hedgehog will take the panther to a brothel, you said that he was a player, after all,” Hongjoong confirmed with a nod, “and message the bunny to come there, too. The hedgehog should do something, maybe making the panther compete with someone in there, a gisaeng**, or put him in a dangerous situation, so the bunny can come and save him. Sometimes, a damsel in distress is the best solution- cliche but effective.”

Hongjoong nodded, suddenly feeling inspired, “Right! Good idea! Because the panther can’t use his power for long, he would need help. Nu- I mean- T-The bunny is very good at martial arts; she should be able to help him.” He snapped his finger.

“Exactly,” Monsta X Minhyuk bobbed his head, “And once the bunny saves the panther, they will get to talk to each other more. The hedgehog still stays alive, and the panther can fall in love with the bunny.”

The other two listened, then nodded in approval.

“Absolutely,” Hongjoong smiled, feeling a little more clear with his thoughts, “Not a bad choice. I will head back now. Thank you.” He rushed, throwing toward each of them a gold coin before running out.

Behind him, Monsta X Minhyuk excitedly yelled, “make sure to give us updates, Your Highness!” The three of them waved at the shadow which had now vanished, then shook their heads in defeat.

* * *

“Master Park, when should we begin the plan?” Mingi murmured mysteriously. Now that they stayed inside their own court, the dragons would have more time to discuss their next move.

The older man paced around the room, deep in thought. There were many holes in this palace, and Seonghwa must choose a wise place to ambush the young phoenix without being noticed. But there was one thing tugging at his chest. 

Killing Kim Hongjoong.

For some reason, it felt off even just thinking about it.

Ever since the man had said things that he knew weren’t the truth to rescue him, Seonghwa felt as if he was going to betray someone he had known for ages, someone who “saved” his life. He was hesitant and overthinking. The young dragon replayed over and over about the upper hand the Parks’ clan would have. If he killed Kim Hongjoong, he would be able to get closer to Kim Hwangmi, and it would be easier for his family to agree to the treaty.

But about the cure…

It didn’t matter who he had to approach for the medication. 

As long as he could get his hands on it, even if that meant marrying Kim Hongjoong, he could still create a plan to take it. And knowing that the only reason he had left was that this marriage was going against the Parks’ disciplines, he felt perturbed.

Maybe it was the guilt talking, but Seonghwa couldn’t stand taking someone’s life without an exact purpose (it was actually called ‘an excuse’).

Sensing the battle inside his head, Mingi stepped closer, carefully whispered next to him, “Master, we must do something about this. Our people have already set their bases around the Kims’ territory. We only need you to give a signal.”

Seonghwa sighed at that, “Let’s keep them still for now, I am thinking about the aftermath of taking Kim Hongjoong’s life.”

“The aftermath?” Mingi wondered, “Now that you mention it, I assumed that Mistress Kim would be furious about this, but it’s the only way, Your Highness. if your father knew about what’s happening now, he would be frantic. We must approach Kim Hwangmi for the throne and take the Kims’ palace map to locate our enemies. We can’t remain here forever, and you know that yourself. I don’t see any benefits for us to stay with this man. Besides, you and Kim Hongjoong don’t seem to get along well.”

Seonghwa gave out a dry chuckle.

“But that doesn’t mean I have every right to kill him. He didn’t seem to be as terrible as the rumors have said; at least, in my view, he was only helping us.”

“Even when he kidnapped you? Are you experiencing some sort of Stockholm syndrome, _Your Highness?_ ” Mingi snorted, and the older dragon slapped his back. “Ouch! What was that for?!”

“To zip your noisy mouth up.” Seonghwa’s eyes pierced through him, cold and untouchable.

Until he stopped and looked at Mingi in confusion.

“What was that, by the way, Stockholm syndrome?”

Mingi stared back at him with the same puzzled expression, “Oh! It’s uh… Something, uh… Huh… Wait…I don’t know. Why did I say that? It just slipped out. But for a second, I thought I knew that word.”

Seonghwa was amused by the strange situation, he whispered, words barely heard beneath his lips, “me too.”

Little Mountain peaked over from Seonghwa’s sleeve, staring at them, curious by the conversation.

_Interesting._

* * *

“Where are we going?” Park Seonghwa had questioned Hongjoong, pulling back from the firm grip that Jongho had put on the dragon while giving suspicious stares as Hongjoong walked ahead of them.

If Hongjoong knew how to explain, he would have been a forecaster instead of a writer. Words were more comfortable to express through writing compared to speaking. Turning a blind eye on the older man, he marched straight toward Yarrow Bough’s brothel. Hongjoong had written out a perfect plan for today, and if things ended well, he would have more faith in waking up without any brain damage. This concussion had been going on for too long.

“Stop asking and keep walking,” he clucked his tongue in annoyance. The man’s curiosity was irking him, but he tried not to comment on it. “You will know once we get there.”

“But where exactly are we heading to? I must know to prepare.”

Hongjoong squinted his eyes, confused by the words. “Prepare? For what?”

“You have stopped Mingi from following us and are now taking me without telling me the location. How am I supposed to know if you are going to assassinate me?”

“Hah,” Hongjoong huffed in amazement, “Don’t worry about that, the last thing I would do is to kill you.”

Park Seonghwa’s smug face dropped at Hongjoong’s remark, and he paused, “Why?” He asked, hesitated.

“Because you are important to me,” Hongjoong responded without thinking. It was the truth. The dragon must survive for Hongjoong to return. That was the only way. “You cannot die, no matters what.”

They continued on their path, but the older man suddenly became silent, obediently marching up to the phoenix’s pace. Park Seonghwa was staring at him, to the point he could have drilled a hole in the writer’s cheek if he kept his position. Hongjoong found the reaction strange, but he decided not to comment on it.

They stopped at a manor.

“Ah, here we go, let’s get inside.” The shorter man smiled, letting Jongho take the dragon. Park Seonghwa had looked at him with a betrayed glance. “A brothel? Kim Hongjoong, why are we at a brothel?” His face was grim, unwilling to be dragged inside the gateway.

Hongjoong shrugged naturally, “why not?”

“Are you playing with me?” The latter responded offensively after the former’s action, feeling off. He pulled Jongho off from his arm, “You can’t take me to such a filthy place like this, not when we are already engaged! Are you looking down on me?”

Hongjoong looked at him amusingly, “Engaged? Since when have you accepted this marriage? I thought you were disapproving of it. I’m just trying to make you feel comfortable, Prince Park. Now that we are here let’s have some fun.”

The dragon’s ears were insanely red, and Hongjoong knew he must be terrifyingly angry. “Kim Hongjoong!” The older man growled, his voice caught the attention of the people surrounding them, but Hongjoong kept his face neutral, seemingly fascinated by the reaction.

Behind him, there were whispers from the people coming in and out.

He knew he was the talk of the town, and with Kim Gong’s hot-blooded personality, it was understandable for everyone to be afraid of him. He knew they must be sowing some inaccurate rumors since he had stepped foot inside—a bunch of useless parrots. But people loved to pry into others’ business, and they wouldn’t go away until they received the drama they wanted.

Hongjoong decided to feed into their prying agenda.

“Ah, why are you so fussy, Park Seonghwa? It was you who petitioned my mother to cancel this marriage. I am doing this so we wouldn’t feel so awkward.” Hongjoong smiled, showing all of his teeth. “I don’t see what is wrong with going to a brothel. After all, this is an unwanted marriage. Or should I say… _Your_ unwanted marriage?” He almost sounded mocking, yet, the phoenix refrained from being too malicious.

_Don’t think you are the only one who can act here, asshole. I will snatch away that goddamn award on your living room wall._

“You-“ Park Seonghwa was furious. Genuinely furious.

Dragons were prideful beings. They have always been stubborn and difficult. Sometimes, they behaved like they were much older than how they looked. But sometimes, they acted like kids. Park Seonghwa was no exception. One moment, the man was begging for Mistress Kim to cancel this bond, the next moment, he was fuming over Hongjoong’s playfulness. And it made the writer laugh; the man reminded him so much of a child.

Hongjoong did not encourage hurtful words when it came to human interaction. Today was different; however, he had to make this man separate from him entirely and attach to a new target in the name of Kim Hwangmi. As much as he knew his words were rude, Hongjoong didn’t have any better options. He wasn’t an ideal Kim Gong to begin with, but he believed he would be able to show at least a side of this character.

It was him who made the role, after all.

Hongjoong’s plan was to push the dragon away, leading him toward Kim Hwangmi, while doing his best to save his miserable life. At _all_ costs.

_Right._

After such a long time, Hongjoong finally felt as if he got everything back to normal.

A sense of completing a mission.

“If this is how you want things to be, then I will follow.” Park Seonghwa gritted, somehow managing to compose himself. “But you must know this is disgraceful behavior, and I’m giving you my last warning.”

Hongjoong scoffed. _Here comes the righteous hero complex_.

“Stop talking and come in. We don’t have all day. I need to get my things done.”

Ignoring the dragon’s glare, which was about to slice him in half, the young writer darted around, looking for a familiar silhouette. He had to cause a ruckus for Hwangmi to come and push Park Seonghwa into a dangerous situation—harmful enough for the serious consequences behind it, but not too destructive for him to die. If anything went wrong, it wouldn’t be that Hongjoong would have no chance of returning home, but another war would also burst out.

It was a dangerous idea, sure.

But there was an interesting thing about humans.

They would never know anything unless they tried.

And Hongjoong would do anything to return home.

“Jung Wooyoung! Come out!” Hongjoong yelled loudly, watching the people walking by him with curiosity.

A few gisaengs stopped their tracks at the boldness. Nobody had called their boss out like that. Nobody but one person.

“Jung Wooyoung! I’ve come here to nourish your brothel, your customer service should be better than this, don’t let me climb trees*** in the middle of your yard without anyone greeting me!” Hongjoong yelled louder, alerting the people around the place with his words. He heard whispers and felt eyes glancing at him. A heavy tension came from his back, where Jongho was still holding on to the dragon.

It suddenly went silent, and before he could blink his eyes, a black dart suddenly shot out from a door, gazing slightly by his neck, then stuck into a nearby wood column. He dodged it in time before it stabbed through his throat.

 _God bless Kim Gong’s quick reflex._ Hongjoong swallowed nervously.

Among the whispering individuals, a figure marched out with darts in between his fingers. A purple hanbok with white garments beneath the vibrant accessories on his waistband, the man walked forward, standing face-to-face with Hongjoong.

“Hey!” The man growled, “I didn’t ask you to be here, either. Why are you so damn loud this early in the morning?! It’s not that I have bad customer service. It’s just you who doesn’t deserve that kind of service.” He pointed the finger at Hongjoong, angrily retorted. “My business is still as wealthy without your presence, fuck off.”

The writer huffed, “If it wasn’t me who paid for all of the gisaengs, you would be nowhere near as rich as you are now.”

Hongjoong knew that Kim Gong _loved_ this place.

“O-ho,” Wooyoung mocked him, “are you telling me that you are the one who gave me this wonderful position?” He pushed the darts right at Hongjoong’s face, mere inches apart. “Kim Hongjoong, if you don’t stop pissing me off, you won’t be able to live, huh? Why must you be so stubborn? Stop disrupting me and my business. Move away.”

Hongjoong smiled at him dangerously, hands put behind his back, “Try me.”

Jung Wooyoung, one of the characters in his story, Hongjoong recalled, was the character that went against Kim Gong almost every single day regardless of what the man did, be it good or bad. He was the owner of this brothel, where the young phoenix always visited on the weekends, and for some reason, they never got along (those reasons were unexplainable because come on now, Hongjoong didn’t know what he wrote sometimes). The man was wild, intense, and very prideful. Maybe it was one reason why Kim Gong couldn’t stand him, because two egocentric men in the same place would never balance things out. It was like pointing the same pole of magnets towards each other.

They were the perfect example of _Tom and Jerry._

If Hongjoong continued to provoke him, he knew that Wooyoung would do anything to make him suffer.

And that would be great because Hongjoong could drag Park Seonghwa into this rabbit hole with him.

“Kim Hongjoong, you said this yourself, no words taken back. I am a busy man, and you are bothering me at my workplace. If you want to be such a scoundrel, I will let you be one,” Then he pulled out a blade from his hip, pointing it toward the phoenix. “Draw your sword, midget.”

_M...M-midget?!_

“Yah!” Hongjoong screeched as he smacked right on Wooyoung’s head. A loud sound echoed through the brothel.

“Yah!” Wooyoung yelled back, maybe even louder. He hugged his head, staring back at Hongjoong furiously.

As quickly as the situation escalated, they ended up fighting each other. Hongjoong tried to scratch the younger man, and Wooyoung tried to grab his hair. Jongho and Park Seonghwa, who had stayed silent through the whole interaction, now stared at the battle in front of them in bafflement.

Jongho tried to stop them, releasing the dragon’s arm to split the angry men apart. “Master Kim, Lord Jung, please stop fighting!” His arms were strong. However, their fits of anger were stronger.

“Move!” The two men each slapped on both sides of his cheeks, and Jongho dropped down to the ground from a flying fall.

Park Seonghwa watched the two men in shock. Then he heaved a sigh.

Hongjoong was too weak to attack. It was Kim Gong who knew how to fight; for now, the writer could only rely on his anger to make a move, but he understood Wooyoung soon would be able to knock him down. He held up his posture as much as he could while dodging the younger’s quick strikes. Hongjoong was durable in defending, but he couldn’t keep up once he started to get exhausted.

It seemed like Park Seonghwa could see this in his actions. So the man stepped in, pushing Wooyoung away in a swift manner. When Hongjoong could finally fix his clothes back, Wooyoung had yelled, throwing his darts toward the two of them. “You!” He glanced at the dragon in rage, then turned back to the writer, “Kim Hongjoong! This is cheating; we did not mention anything about more assistants. You are not honest with your words. I will skin you for this!” He threw his darts toward Hongjoong’s direction.

Hongjoong watched as the darts shot straight at where he was, gasping in surprise. He couldn’t move away in time. He felt as if his reflex was too slow, and the black items were flying too fast for their own good, but it was Park Seonghwa who noticed the weapons and shoved Hongjoong away.

The phoenix fell on his butt, and the older man swung his arms. The darts ripped through the garments, luckily didn’t harm anything in the process. Park Seonghwa looked up to Wooyoung, almost murderous. Before Hongjoong could regain consciousness from the dizziness of the impact, the two standing men raised their weapons against each other. 

A shadow flew up from the rooftop, jumping down to where the fight was, and while Wooyoung had already stopped in his tracks at the newcomer, Park Seonghwa made a step back, looking up at the newcomer’s blade held to his neck, surprised.

Hongjoong blinked his eyes in confusion.

Kim Hwangmi was here.

But instead of saving the dragon, she was holding her fuming blade by the man’s neck.

Jongho had finally run up to where Hongjoong was, holding onto his frame in panic, “Master Kim! Master Kim, are you alright?” But instead of answering the servant, Hongjoong kept staring at the three people in front of him as if he could bore holes into their cheeks.

As everyone held their breath at the scenario beyond them. Kim Hwangmi spoke up, distant and sour, “how _dare_ you hurt him?” The blade reached even deeper into the dragon’s skin, almost to the point of drawing blood. Park Seonghwa looked at her, stupidification overflowing his stare.

_Wait…What?_

Hongjoong watched them in shock—even Wooyoung drew his sword back, inspecting the couple in hesitation.

 _What the fuck is happening?!_ Hongjoong silently screamed, completely puzzled over the situation.

When Park Seonghwa gave no response, the young lady gritted her teeth violently and pushed the blade up. This time, blood was actually drawn. Park Seonghwa furrowed his brows, then held the blade away from him with force—however, Kim Hwangmi had no intention of removing it. She asked the dragon again, violence firing inside her eyes, “how _dare_ you hurt him?!”

Hongjoong covered his head frustratedly, watching the couple before him in exasperation.

_Oh, God._

_No._

_This…This is not supposed to happen…_

_What the fuck are his main characters doing?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *: a scholar/noble man's traditional hat  
> **: women who 'worked' in the brothel back then.  
> ***: it's an Asian idiom (more specifically Southeast Asian/ or Chinese and Vietnamese). When we say someone "got climbed trees," it means they being left hanging/waiting for someone, but that person never comes. Just an insert so you won't be confused. ^^
> 
> I hope this chapter still managed to entertain you hhh


	4. Bad Panther, Good Panther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, when i said our posting schedule is so inconsistent this is what i meant.
> 
> we can only update new chap whenever both of us have the free time to sit down and work+edit on the story :')
> 
> but yes, as always, mai had beta-read this like the angel she is *hugs her*
> 
> happy reading! :>

__ am!

The violent sound vibrated through the wooden table as a huffing man in a burgundy hanbok bored his eyes into the three figures beyond him. His hand was sore from the slam, but he tried not to pay too much attention to it. His Heuklip hid almost half of his face, but the three men knew exactly what expression was behind it; the man in front of them was livid.

“It backfired,” Hongjoong told them bitterly, rubbing his face in frustration as he thought more about what had happened. “ARGH. How did things turn out like that?” He whined.

Block B Lee Minhyuk gave his handkerchief, which Hongjoong gratefully took, rubbing the fabric with his fingers and stretching it like a stress reliever.

He had reunited with the three story-tellers after such disastrous events passed by, mentally screaming about the imaginary characters’ previous actions.

God, if only he could be a little more violent, Hongjoong for sure would snap his characters’ necks all at once. (and when he said ‘characters,’ he specifically meant the current Park Yoon and Kim Hwangmi).

The event happened so fast and was so impactful to Hongjoong’s tired brain that even a zombie from ten feet underground would strike up and comprehend the exact scenario.

Hongjoong hated his cow-blood luck with a passion.

* * *

After the dramatic scene where Hwangmi set her blade toward Park Seonghwa’s neck, Hongjoong had sat still on the ground, too shocked to move his body.

“How _dare_ you hurt him?” Kim Hwangmi’s words lingered on the heavy atmosphere, and the dragon had used his force to push the blade away. Hongjoong noticed the man’s fabrics; the arm raised earlier to block Wooyoung’s darts had gotten holes torn in it. 

“My apologies for being disrespectful, Lady Kim. But I did not do anything.” The dragon calmly responded, watching the angry woman with every move she made.

“Liar!” She growled, ignoring the blood that was slowly sliding down from the latter’s neck. “I saw you pushing him with my two eyes. I don’t mind this marriage, but so far, you are not treating my brother well. Do you think the Kims’ family is a joke? I must teach you a lesson today for this notorious action.”

_Wait, hold on, lady, what the hell are you saying?_ Hongjoong widened his eyes.

“N-nunim-“ The writer spoke up, clearly lost by the situation.

The woman snapped her head at him, listening to none of his words. “It is not your turn to talk, Hongjoong. He had put you in danger. He should be punished for this.” She pulled her sword out from the dragon’s neck, rearranged her position before raising it, aiming at him.

Hongjoong hurriedly stood up, running toward Hwangmi. “Nunim, stop. He was trying to help me.” He held her arm, trying to withdraw the blade.

But the young lady was consistent with her actions, “Help? He had shoved you with such a force as if he wanted to kill you, didn’t you see that?”

Hongjoong did fall very hard, even to the point he was dizzy, but he’d rather be thrown out like a rug than have three darts drill through his skin. In fact, he was glad that the dragon did push him, or he would have been a bloody mess by now.

“He tried to put me out of danger, nunim, retrieve your weapon. You must be mistaken; Seonghwa isn’t like that. He won’t hurt me!” Hongjoong begged again, pulling her arm down harder. 

The dragon had observed him, a flash of surprise dashed by his eyes.

That was the first time Kim Hongjoong had said his name without any mockery behind it.

He swallowed dryly at the turbulent siblings in front of him. Park Seonghwa was just as lost.

Hongjoong knew that it wouldn’t be easy to convince this woman, but he knew she cherished her brother dearly. And as shit had already hit the fan, the young man didn’t really have any better solutions. Hwangmi had looked between Hongjoong and the dragon, seeming to reconsider the action. She didn’t trust his words, but Hongjoong's drastic plea did bug her enough for the lady to huff and pulled back her blade. 

“Fine, I won’t press him anymore. But I trust my eyes, Hongjoong-ah. Please don’t always be so careless.”

_Miss Kim, I am entirely sane; it is you who’s being careless for pointing your sword without knowing the context._ Hongjoong thought in exasperation. _You can’t just kill your future partner when literally no angst has happened yet._

Park Seonghwa finally exhaled, tension slowly leaving his body as he reached up to touch his bloody neck. He knew it wasn’t a severe injury, at least nothing extreme. His neck was still intact, and he didn’t burst any veins along the way besides the external scratch that Hwangmi caused. But Hongjoong didn’t seem to know, because one moment the man was begging for his sister to remove her blade, the next moment, the young phoenix had already run up to him, trying to touch his wounded neck. The young writer turned pale at the sight.

“O-oh my,” Hongjoong approached him, his hands reached up hesitatingly, “Y-you are bleeding.” His voice trembled, “Call someone; you must have your wound treated.” He looked around frantically, searching for help. “J-jongho!” Hongjoong called, “could you please go and retrieve Physician Yeosang?” Then he turned back to the dragon, looking at the man in a close distance. “Are you okay? Do you need me to clog the blood? Should I perform CPR for you? Can you even breathe? Are you dying? Can you hear me? How many fingers is Jongho holding right now? Blink twice if you’re in pain.” He harshly ripped the corner of his arm’s garment, putting pressure from the fabric onto the skin.

Park Seonghwa hissed. Despite it being a minor injury, well, no shit Sherlock, it still hurt, especially when _someone_ was pressing on it.

He pulled the younger man away from the wound, stopping him from freaking out over it. “No need to do that, I am fine.”

But the phoenix didn’t seem to hear it, as he was busy inspecting the open skin as if the dragon himself would bleed out in an instant. If Park Seonghwa died now, it would be game over. Hongjoong’s unhelpful brain repeated tons of negative scenarios on top of his head like a mantra, as he was desperately praying that nothing would happen to the man. He kept his hand on the older man’s throat, not wanting to remove it.

“Hongjoong.” The taller man tried, “don’t worry about it. I am fine.”

But the phoenix’s mind must have been shutting off.

“Why did nunim have to hurt you this bad oh my God, like the blood doesn’t fucking stop gushing out and there is so much blood here like how do I stop this because the fabric is soaking wet and I-“ 

“Hongjoong.” Park Seonghwa sighed.

“-like what if you get blood loss and we don’t have anything like saltwater here and what if you die from infection and I won’t be able to re-“

“Kim Hongjoong!”

Hongjoong snapped himself out from his panic.

“Hey, hey,” Park Seonghwa gently spoke, holding back the hand that Hongjoong used to press on his wound, “It’s okay, really. I’m fine.” He softly soothed the clumsy hand, “look,” then removed it. The fabric got stuck on the skin, and while Hongjoong was still shaken from his worries, Little Mountain had crawled up from the dragon’s arm to his shoulder.

The phoenix stared at the snake, confused. “What-“

The snake hissed a little, then moved toward the cut, wiggling the fabric away before it bit into the dragon. Strangely, Park Seonghwa didn’t make a sound, but everyone surrounded had looked at the little creature in astonishment. In a quick moment, the cut started sealing back by itself.

Two instances after, everything healed, as if nothing had happened. His skin was as smooth as ever.

Then Little Mountain retreated to where it had come from.

“See.” The dragon calmly said, rubbing over his neck, “I’m fine.”

“You are…fine.” Hongjoong had watched everything, perplexed. He reached out, wanting to touch the latter’s skin again, “You are sure, right? No other pain? Excessive blood leaking? I mean, external bleeding? Or even internal, too? But you’re completely fine, right? Positive?”

Park Seonghwa exhaled again, putting both of his hands on Hongjoong’s shoulders this time. “Yes, stop worrying about it. Tell Jongho to not look for Physician Kang, either. It’s not needed.” Then he looked at Jongho, who stood still to watch the unfolding scene before him, and the servant warily nodded in understanding.

It took awhile for Hongjoong to get himself back together.

His hand was trembling as he reached up the dragon’s neck, which Park Seonghwa looked down in surprise, feeling the cool sensation of a hand that wasn’t his. Hongjoong stared at his chest, at the ombre baby blue hanbok that the man wore (having a little bit of bloodstain on the collars), not daring to look at his face.

Then his shoulders shook.

“Don’t…,”

The dragon watched him silently.

“Please don’t get hurt…,” Hongjoong shivered, “Please…, Seonghwa.”

_Again,_ the dragon thought. _He had called my name again._

“I don’t,” Hongjoong swallowed, the lump on his dry throat didn’t seem to disappear, “Actually…,” his voice cracked, “I wish never to see you die. Not now, not ever. So please, don’t get hurt. I’m begging you.” This time, he looked up. “Don’t scare me like this ever again.”

The last words were barely a whisper, but it weighed heavily for every moment the dragon lived.

And if Seonghwa was honest enough, it was the first time someone ever cried for him, even if it was because of a little scratch.

“I-I…,” He watched Hongjoong, watched how his whole, much smaller body seemed to vibrate with the force his fears made, and then reached out, wiping the fallen tears, “I’m not going anywhere,” He chuckled, “Why do you have to let out your sadness for a mere injury? It’s not worth it. Now, now. I’m still here, aren’t I? So don’t worry.”

Hongjoong sniffed.

Then he hugged the dragon, bawling his eyes into the fancy hanbok that Park Seonghwa was wearing. The taller man stayed stiff with shock, and it took him a good moment to regain his senses before he returned the embrace, patting Hongjoong’s back kindly, each pat slowly landing under a steady tempo.

On that day, the scene had been the strangest thing that happened inside the Kims’ palace capital.

Everyone froze at the situation in front of them, feeling too afraid to break the tension. Wooyoung and Hwangmi uncomfortably stared at the couple, being completely out of place. With reserved utterances stuck by their throats, they have had half a heart to split the young couple away. It was too risky to do so… too domestic. Jongho remained quiet, and the customers, the gisaengs, the servants, and the guards began to mumble lines and lines to one another.

Soon, the brothel began to get crowded.

And Hongjoong really didn’t want to give a shit about what they have to say about him right now.

Besides, regardless of how sudden the situation was, Hongjoong declared that he had every reason to cry.

Okay, listen. He could explain.

First of all, this was his own life on the line. And if Park Seonghwa died, Hongjoong would probably be stuck here forever.

Second of all, Kim Hwangmi hurt the man, so if Park Seonghwa died, there would be a war after this, and Hongjoong would still die even if he couldn’t return.

Lastly, even if the wound was minor, Hongjoong was terrible with science classes. The only things he did well were math, communication, and literature, so if someone talked smart to him, he would smack them right on the head. 

Like how the fuck would he know that it was just a little cut??? There was so much blood! It soaked all of the fabric that he had ripped out to press on the wound. And he had _every_ right to be panicked about it. 

It was too late to compose himself now. Hongjoong groaned mentally.

He deserved the right to be emotional.

Plus, it would be too embarrassing for Hongjoong to take back his words.

At the end of the day, the more he started to reconsider today’s consequences the more he realized this was a terrible plan to begin with. Yet, it was too late for his hair to fall from his stressful pull. It was him who led them to the brothel, it was also him who provoked Jung Wooyoung, and it was probably him with his slow reflex in dodging the darts that Park Seonghwa had received this forfeit from his sister.

Things didn’t go on the way he wanted.

And this story began to drift much further than the range that he could reach.

Hongjoong felt lost and frustrated.

Moreover, he was overwhelmed.

So, in the end, he ended up confessing what he felt after seeing the dragon get hurt, and his words were all the bare truth. Hongjoong was too emotional to control himself. 

He wanted the dragon to stay alive so that he could return to his world. No more, no less. He was frightened for his own life, feeling clueless about the upcoming future even if he initially created this storyline.

Kim Hongjoong only wanted to go home.

Park Seonghwa, however, had understood Hongjoong’s desperate words in a completely different meaning.

For the first time, the young dragon felt such a vibrant feeling in his chest. Such irresistible enchantment came from a strange individual; someone he still hadn’t fully known and hadn’t been close to since birth, but felt as if he could see the man better than anyone else would. 

All things happen for a reason. As people remained in this universe, happiness only came to those who deserved it. Yet, it was rare for everyone to receive such fortune, and he had never expected that it would be him who experienced these emotions.

Happiness for someone who was born in such an empty, selfish, and greedy world.

The white noise blocked all of the outside distractions away from the peering people except for the body that was wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, engulfing the phoenix’s body even if it could burn him in the future.

Warmth.

They stood still in the middle of the ground, neither batted an eye at the curious commons.

After all these years of living under the harshness of the palace world, something different appeared in the Parks’ son’s heart. 

Oh, but how hard it was to understand.

He felt _warm._

And he would like to encounter this sensation more in the future.

* * *

“Like? What am I supposed to do with that?” Hongjoong slammed the table again, “Out of nowhere, the bunny threatened the panther, and now they are on each other’s necks!”

The three Lee Minhyuks looked at each other hesitantly, then gazed at the man again. BTOB Minhyuk coughed, fixing his throat. “Then what happened after, Your Highness?”

The young writer decided to ignore the part where he sobbed like a newborn puppy. Nobody needed to know about that. “What happened?” He sighed, “What happened was that suddenly a golden retriever entered and ended the fight.”

“A golden retriever?” All three men asked at the same time.

“A new character,” Hongjoong confirmed, “the golden retriever is the one who had a marriage agreement with the hedgehog since they were children. But the golden retriever was against it. He revealed himself to stop the violence, and in the end, they all withdrew from the fight.”

* * *

“What is going on here?” A man walked inside the brothel, watching the crowded ground in the center of the manor. He held his fan, peering over the whispering people.

Hongjoong had heard the voice, and while hugging the dragon, he still peaked his head toward the sound.

The man was tall, somewhat the same height as Mingi, maybe even taller. He was wearing a golden flowery-embroidered hanbok, with Heuklip on his head, but it didn’t completely cover his face, revealing a calm and collected beauty behind it. His fan had a wooden base, with a red decorative thread and a small jade bead lingering along.

Although his face showed no irritation, his voice was heavy with discomfort. Hongjoong had to check over his wooden fan twice to remember who he was.

This man was Jung Yunho.

Jung Yunho, as Hongjoong recalled, was one of his favorite characters in the story script. He was described as a modest man; who was gentle and thoughtful, sincere and hard-working. He worked at the Chrysanthemum Pedal Institution. He was a headteacher; moreover, the youngest teacher in the whole palace.

Over two decades ago, when Leader Kim was still alive, the man and Yunho’s father, who were close friends, promised marriage between the taller man and Kim Gong. By the age of twenty (which should be now), they were expecting to be together.

That being said, if it wasn’t for Kim Gong who stole Park Yoon’s marriage, Hongjoong would probably be married to a tall, reliable, and considerate scholar, a.k.a Jung Yunho.

And believed him or not, this man was a full course meal. It was the first time he actually saw the man, but said man had reached perfectly all of the descriptions that the writer listed out.

Hongjoong definitely had regretted his life decisions more than once. Maybe also questioning his life decisions along the lines.

Because why the _fuck_ did he write this story script in the first place?

And why the fuck did he have to make Kim Gong steal the marriage?

Why the fuck did he have to make Kim Gong into a self-centered asshole who has the fortune to marry the most famous man in the Kims’ clan territory but ended up taking over someone else’s marriage?

Why did this story even exist?

Again, why the fuck did he write the story-

Ah, wait. 

_Right._

The damn iPad Air that his mom bought.

Hongjoong’s head groaned in exasperation.

Why did she even buy the 256 Gigabytes with the Apple Care warranty in the first place? Out of every damn option, she just had to pick the _most_ expensive thing.

Despite the tsunami twerking inside his brain as he understood little about the unfortunate that he was dealing with, Hongjoong knew precisely one crucial thing that nobody else saw. Regardless of Kim Gong, who might have taken some interest in Jung Yunho, the taller man would still dodge him like the plague.

Jung Yunho despised Kim Gong.

But it was understandable. If Hongjoong was Jung Yunho, he would have kicked Kim Gong off a bridge above a waterfall.

And it wasn’t like Jung Yunho had a choice with _his_ marriage since birth, either.

Arranged marriages were always a pain in the ass.

At least that was what most k-dramas nowadays showed him. 

“Kim Hongjoong, what have you done this time?” Yunho’s stern voice instantly pulled him out of his thoughts, and although the writer was not looking up at the taller man, Hongjoong knew that the man must be staring at him disapprovingly.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” Feeling like a deer caught by the headlights, Hongjoong perked up, ready to deny whatever indictment was throwing toward him.

“Then why would Lady Kim Hwangmi point her sword at this man?” Yunho said, “I could hear the crashing sounds from two houses away.”

“It was-“

“Yunho!” From the side, a forgotten character yelled excitedly at the newest figure inside the scene, and Hongjoong squinted his eyes, watching the person with the voice in annoyance.

_Of course_ , it was Jung Wooyoung.

Hongjoong had spent a good few hours on the internet a day before he fainted about ideal examples of a romance drama plot for dummies, which led him to the most viewed website that gave a specific kind of dramatic episode drama storyline. As a goodie-two-shoes that he was, Hongjoong decided to copy exactly everything it said.

Definitely was a bad idea if someone asked him.

The plot was typical, and the surprise element was so close to nonexistent that even he cringed at his story, but nobody could blame him for that.

He wasn’t born to write love stories.

He partly understood now why Mars was so against his story script.

Technically, even though Kim Gong and Jung Yunho have an arranged marriage since they didn't even exist, that didn’t stop Jung Wooyoung from making a move on the taller man. (Pff, the typical).

Hongjoong knew damn well that Jung Wooyoung had a crush on Jung Yunho.

But once again, it was understandable. The man in front of him was a snack.

If Hongjoong was being honest, he didn’t really mind if Jung Wooyoung took Yunho away. But he was very much reminded that Wooyoung had no concept of proper manners.

Being born as a spoiled child (again, must be why Wooyoung and Kim Gong clashed with each other so much), Jung Wooyoung would _demand_ the things he wanted. And even if the character itself wasn’t a terrible person to begin with, Jung Wooyoung was very childish.

In short, Wooyoung would get jealous every time the two names Kim and Jung would go together because he acknowledged the marriage, but completely opposed it. Hongjoong wouldn’t be so bitter if it wasn’t for how much he regretted putting too much detail into his story (he blamed this on Mars, no one else).

At every moment, once Wooyoung and Kim Gong faced one another on the street, the younger man would do anything to attack the phoenix, purely out of hatred and jealousy. Which was hilarious because Wooyoung’s face always looked like he would yeet Hongjoong out of space with a flick of his finger if God ever allowed him to, but could never truly harm him because Hongjoong was the youngest Kims’ clan’s son.

“Yunho, what are you doing here?” Wooyoung spoke in the sweetest voice he could muster, and Hongjoong mentally gagged.

“Lord Jung, would you tell me what was going on here? I heard a loud sound as I walked by.”

“A…ah, that…That was because of…of,” Wooyoung scratched his ear in hesitation, darting his eyes around the brothel embarrassingly before they landed right on Hongjoong. Then he pointed one of his darts at the writer.

“Him! Because of him! He arrived to ruin my business and called me in names! Yunho, you must bring back justice for me. Not only did he provoke me, but he also broke the rules when we fought! He asked for helpers!”

“Oho?” Hongjoong huffed, clearly offended at the sudden accusation, “look here, Lord Jung. All I did was complain about your customer service. I hadn’t even done a thing until _you_ demanded me to fight. And no host would shoot darts toward their visitors, you know? That was a bit rude. I’m not even complaining about you using violence against your customers. I could just sue you for it.”

“Hah!” Wooyoung scoffed back at him, “you? Sue me? Gwanchalsa Jung’s oldest son?” Then he laughed, “Come on, baby, I know the law.”

Hongjoong widened his eyes at the words.

_What the fuck-_

“Enough!”

Yunho stopped the bickering in an instant, stressfully fanning himself. And the two men halted their words, surprised at the angry outburst.

“I don’t want to know what happened anymore. Now that you two can’t settle things together, this place would probably soon turn into dust. I want you to make peace with each other and walk out of here unharmed. At the end of the day, nobody shall mind one another’s business, get it? If you don’t agree, feel free to walk with me to the court for disturbing the neighborhood.”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong gulped nervously.

“That’s not fair!” Wooyoung whined, “this is my land, I’m the owner of this brothel, you can’t do anything to me!”

“I can’t do anything to you.” Yunho nodded, “but I can to him,” as he pointed toward a jotted Hongjoong, spoke carefully at the statement.

“M-me? B...but I’m here because of…” He glanced timidly at both Park Seonghwa and Kim Hwangmi, but couldn’t find himself to explain his purposes, so he sighed tiredly. “Actually, no. Nevermind. I will do it.”

“Do what?” Wooyoung was confused.

The audiences began to fill in the manor, and more people whispered among others. Hongjoong looked at his surroundings warily, then he heaved. He folded his hands together, flattened his palms, then turned toward Wooyoung, shocking the crowds. Hongjoong bent forward, bowing down from his stance at a perfect ninety-degree as if he was starting his cardio HIIT stretching session.

“I apologize for causing such a hassle today and for disrupting your business and time, Lord Jung. I will not commit the same mistakes next time. Please excuse such an incident because of our close relationship after all these years. I won’t cause another mess for you again.”

Wooyoung stared at him like Hongjoong just stabbed his favorite plushy with a kitchen knife and kicked it down the stairs.

“...what the hell are you doing, Kim Hongjoong? You’re scaring my workers and me.”

“I am apologizing.” He responded as if it was _obvious_ , duh? “what is it, Lord Jung? Are you still not content with my words? Should I kneel to please your mind, too? Do you mind if I do it here?”

“N-no, what the-“ Wooyoung sputtered, glancing up at the dragon and the head phoenix questioningly, “what did you guys feed him this morning??? Green Ointment??? Is he okay???”

“Lord Jung, what do you mean? I am healthy. Also, excuse you, that’s very offensive.”

“No, the fuck, you are fucking _not_!” The young man pointed his finger at Hongjoong, growling. “In the name of Heaven Deities, what the bloody hell is going on? Have someone take him back to his own palace. I can’t stand seeing this clone at my place. Kim Hongjoong never apologized to people! He must have gone mad! Jongho, what the hell are you standing there for? Take him! Treat his head! DO SOMETHING!”

“Treat what-“ The writer perked up like he just realized how much he had fucked up.

Wait… _shit…_ Wooyoung had a point. Kim Gong wasn’t someone who would bow at people and say sorry. He was too arrogant for that. And now Hongjoong finally learned that Kim Gong’s image could no longer be revived because he’s too kind for his own good. The worst bitch role had never taken over at least fifty-percent in his blood like Hongjoong expected. He could be haunting, but by the end of the day, he didn’t like to leave grudges with anyone.

And now people thought that he was crazy. Just how amazing things were getting to be, Hongjoong felt like he was losing his mind.

God, Hongjoong needed to save his ass at least in some way before his character began to twist to another alternative. So, he decided to act on instinct. Hongjoong had to _think_ of something instantly.

_Eureka!_

“Hold on!” Hongjoong stopped the man, having to birth out a Plan B with all of his mighty brain cells before his head exploded, “I take that back.”

“What-“ Wooyoung questioned the shifted attitude like a blinded moth.

“You don’t want more drama, right? Fine, I will give you no drama.” He looked at the crowds surrounding them, then spinning toward Yunho, asking the question that determined the current atmosphere, waiting for the taller man’s answer.

“If that would make the curiosity fade away, yes. I would love to see a wealthy business going on, but with the uproar that all of you have caused today, I don’t think having you two together would be wise for a sense of peace.”

“If teacher Yunho is already this concerned for our health, I will gladly listen to you.” Hongjoong flattened his sleeves, acting as if he didn’t even bow down to Wooyoung in the first place. He masked his expression, fixed his black hat, and he sweetly smiled at Yunho, greeting him in farewell respect. “As I already showed you my remorse about causing trouble today, it seems like Lord Jung still doesn’t want to accept it.”

“Hey, I-“ Wooyoung was at a loss for words.

“I won’t pressure him over it, though. Out of kindness, of course. I shall leave now for the better will of both of our mentality and the further consequences, but in the meantime, it was nice fighting with him.” Hongjoong smiled at him, keeping his act together.

“As for you, teacher Jung, we should hang out sometimes. I think it’s been awhile since we have seen each other,” (it wasn’t, and it’s not like Hongjoong knew him, either) “We could reunite for a little chat someday. Deal?” Then he gestured with his hand, his mouth making a _‘cluck’_ sound as if he was drinking, then he winked at Yunho. Like actually _winked_ at him. Pretty smirking face with one eye closed and all.

It was the first time Hongjoong actually did something as mortifying as _that_.

But it was the closest thing to Kim Gong’s personality.

The taller man had been so shocked, he startled, taking a few steps back with his fan.

Hongjoong immediately turned around, put his hands on his back, and walked out of the gates, away from the murmurs and shocked expressions from the people inside the brothel. “C’mon Jongho, let’s go. We don’t have all the time in the world.”

Jongho barely returned to his senses at the action before he stuttered, running to his master. “Ah, y-y-yes, Master. I’m coming.” Leaving a wide-eyed Park Seonghwa behind, A stunned Kim Hwangmi, and a screaming Wooyoung, whose voice almost reached the Buddha himself if he tried a little bit harder.

“Yah! Kim Hongjoong! How DARE you flirt with-“

Hongjoong was already walking out of the brothel in embarrassment.

_Dontlookdontlookdontlook- Goddamn it, Hongjoong. Why did you suddenly get so brave? Why did you do that?! What will you gain from doing that? This is not the time to hoe over some fictional character, you idiot. How many time do you even have to remind yourself to keep the-_

But he wasn’t trying to flirt out of instinct; he tried to reason. Or maybe he did because that was obviously a quick bite to lessen the suspicions on his way. He was trying to act like Kim Gong.

Well, maybe he was too immersed with the role that his instinct really said _‘fuck it’_ and decided to shove him down the hill.

But what had been said could no longer be taken back. Hongjoong kept walking back to his own palace, ignoring the weird stares from the people walking past him with his head held down, Jongho helplessly trailing him.

They had nearly reached the gates only to see a nervous Song Mingi standing there, looking around at people like he could have swallowed them whole. Until he noticed Hongjoong marching toward him, and waved his hands in acknowledgment. “Master Kim! You’re back!” Then he darted his eyes around, searching for a familiar figure that he had been close with all these years, “Where is Master Park?” He frowned.

“Ah…, well, uhm…” Well, crap. Hongjoong totally forgot about the dragon. “You mean Park S-Seonghwa? I think he stayed back at where we left him off earlier.” Hongjoong said but his eyes were nowhere close to meeting Mingi’s.

“You...think?”

“Ah… A-aigoo! Y-yeah! Must be it. Right, Jongho?” Jongho just looked at him frighteningly. “Aigoo, my goldfish brain is doing the job, unfortunately. I can’t seem to remember much nowadays. Since you are here, it would be great if you could go and take him back. I’m quite exhausted so I will retreat now. Aigoo, my head. Just tell him I say hi once he’s back.” He pretended to rub his forehead, implying heavily on his ‘aigoos’ as if he wasn’t barely in his mid-twenties but rather sixties, heading back inside the palace pitifully while Mingi was too puzzled to grab him for more interrogation.

Once Mingi was too lost to make a clear connection himself, Hongjoong was already closing the gates, silently walking over to the bathroom near his own courthouse.

He shooed Jongho away, having the room for himself as he sat down, groaning over his failed attempts of saving the situation.

Just how many times did he have to fail in order for it to succeed? Hongjoong was tired of being stuck here, waking up every morning not to his minion blanket but some beautiful embroidery garments.

As if this dream didn’t want to end, either.

But Hongjoong didn’t think he would be sane enough to remain here any longer.

He wanted to wake up.

Badly so.

* * *

“Someone told me that you said hi.” Hongjoong startled by the sound as he walked out, seeing Park Seonghwa was already leaning by the wooden walls, folding his hands from the outside of the bathroom.

The man, _well,_ didn’t look very pleasant in Hongjoong’s eyes.

The young writer held his hand by his chest, still too shocked by the sudden encounter, “Oh… H-hi! Y-you are… uh… you’re back! That was quick, oh yeah, sorry for leaving you hanging there, I was just, uhm, forgot about you at the moment.”

“That sounds assuring.” Park Seonghwa scoffed. “Is that it? Brought me to a brothel then made a scene, made the brothel’s owner attack you, and then _flirted_ with another man. What exactly are you scheming, phoenix?” (Hongjoong decided not to question the implication of the word ‘flirt’).

He laughed, a bit hesitant by the dragon’s blunt words, “Oh, what, what are you talking about? I’m not scheming anything.”

“You know you are bad at pretending, right? It’s kinda obvious.”

_Son of a biscuit._ Hongjoong hissed. _What’s so good about being a famous actor? He should have been a roaster on Youtube or something._

Hongjoong ignored the questions and walked away from their position, which was _not_ something the dragon preferred. The dragon pulled a trying-to-escape Kim Hongjoong over and pushed him toward a nearby wall. “We still haven’t finished the conversation. Where are you going?”

Being cornered by the taller man, who was probably a ruler’s height above his head, Hongjoong blushed at their intimacy, “w-what are you doing? Get away from me, I have to go somewhere, and it is none of your business.”

_Hongjoong, this is not the time to be a damsel. You still need to meet the three Lee Minhyuks and tell them what happened._ He mentally cursed, pushing the dragon’s blocking arm away _. And why the hell did Mars have to be this good-looking? It was so unfair._

Park Seonghwa pressed him back to the walls, Hongjoong gulped. “I have the right to know.”

“Know what? You’re not my babysitter.” He frowned, “Let me go.”

Park Seonghwa grabbed his wrist, “but I’m your _husband_ , and you can’t seem to stay in one place apparently.”

“Good observation, but maybe you should choose another day to be my sugar daddy and reenact another cheesy rom-com drama scene. I don’t have time to fool around with you right now.” Waiting for the dragon to freeze at his words in confusion, Hongjoong looked for an opening, punching his stomach before pushing him. Leaving a groaning man withered in pain on the ground, he rushed out. 

The writer had to make another plan for this story, and he must meet up with the story-tellers again before something else twisted unexpectedly. Hongjoong looked back at a yelling Park Seonghwa, clasping his hands together.

_Sorry._

Then he ran.

* * *

“So what should I do next?”

“Lord Kim, calm down and let us think for a moment.”

“But it’s urgent!” Hongjoong’s leg shook nervously under the table, making the three men uncomfortable along with his mood. “I don’t know how to fix this story anymore, and instead of chasing over the bunny like the panther _supposed_ to, he’s trying to approach the hedgehog, and I know that the hedgehog will die if the panther doesn’t stop prying.”

Block B Minhyuk sighed, voicing out his suggestion, “what about the panther weakness, I think, the best way to get rid of an enemy is to wrap them around your finger. If the hedgehog knew just one of the panther’s weaknesses, it can scare the panther away.”

Weakness. Hongjoong wracked his head to think. Well, besides the medication and the treaty, Park Yoon didn’t really have any weakness, he was as perfect as the neighbor’s son.

“There is, there is something,” Hongjoong said, “the panther needs the cure for his sickness, and it only existed inside the hedgehog’s house. Should the hedgehog threaten him? Send him letters? Draw blood on his doors?”

“Isn’t that too apparent? What if he becomes even more defensive after? I mean the blood thing is kinda flashy. Or once he figured out the hedgehog is the one who threatened him, what if the panther ended up killing him for future safety?”

Then all of them stayed silent to consider a new strategy.

Suddenly, BTOB Minhyuk hit his thigh in excitement. “Aha!”

“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, nervous.

“Or you can do this, your Highness. How about convincing the panther that the hedgehog is on his side?”

“What do you mean by that?” Monsta X Minhyuk questioned, and the latter hissed, “I’m not done talking.”

“I’m thinking about the hedgehog giving a good impression to the panther, and if it works, the panther will decide to not kill the hedgehog anymore. Of course, by using the panther’s weakness, we have to take our chances.”

Hongjoong widened his eyes, “you mean…, you want the hedgehog to get the cure for the panther so he can trust the hedgehog more?”

“Bingo!”

Hongjoong thought of the possibility of using the plan and agreed along with it. Not only that he could cure the dragon, maybe it will create some positive connection between them, and maybe Park Seonghwa would feel bad for hurting him in the future. That could save him from being killed, and by the time he was alive, it wouldn’t be too late to bring Kim Hwangmi and Park Seonghwa together.

_Perfect._ He nodded.

“Let’s do that then. How should we start this?”

BTOB Minhyuk made a gesture for all of them to come closer, then he whispered.

* * *

“When should we start attacking him, Master Park?” Mingi asked him as the dragon cleaned his fan.

After the ruckus happened as Kim Hongjoong unexpectedly punched his abdomen (the _audacity_ ), Seonghwa retreated to his room in frustration. This phoenix was suspicious with everything he did, even though he had saved Seonghwa twice. He knew he shouldn’t trust anyone here besides his people, and despite the phoenix acting nothing like what the rumors had said, Seonghwa didn’t want to put too much feeling in his job; it was the only way to prevent carrying out a failed mission.

“Tonight.” He put the fan down, opened a page from his journal, and jotted words onto the white surface. He just received a letter from a pigeon earlier, asking him to meet up by the Lotus Circle because the phoenix had something to discuss with him.

After a moment of thinking, the dragon gave out his final resolution. Seonghwa should cut off all connections he made here, anyhow. His target was Kim Hwangmi, and he had to follow it until the end. The dragon had planned to kill Kim Hongjoong, or at least, seriously harmed him, so Mistress Kim could come out and give the cure, he knew that the lady loved her youngest child dearly. By the time they brewed the medication, Seonghwa would sneak inside the kitchen and steal it away.

They needed to hurt Kim Hongjoong tonight and alert the people around for the cure一maybe he could pretend to be the first one who found him and act out his crocodile tears in front of the headmistress for sympathy.

“Kim Hongjoong had sent me a letter. Set the soldiers around the targeted location, wait for my arrival at the Lotus Circle, by the time both the phoenix and I get there, shoot him once I give my signal.” Mingi nodded.

* * *

Seonghwa was surprised to see a huge table of food inside the Lotus Circle by the time he approached. The Lotus Circle overlooked serene waters, its flared rooftop casting jagged shadows on the water’s surface. Although it was a little small, the tall pillars and ornate railings were so grandiose that Seonghwa couldn’t bring himself to mind it. 

As the dragon climbed up the stairs, he spotted a small figure already sitting at the benches, waving at him.

“Ah! Here you are, come come, I asked the chefs to make us some dishes. They are the best cooks in the Kims’ territory. I tell you, I can’t stop heading to the kitchen whenever I’m starving.” The phoenix patted on the seat beside him, signaling for Seonghwa to join.

“What’s with the occasion?” The dragon questioned, confused and doubtful by the enthusiasm the man gave.

“Nah,” Kim Hongjoong flipped his hand, “I just want to treat you to a meal.”

“Treat me?” Seonghwa furrowed at the statement. “That is surprising to hear. Especially coming from you.”

The phoenix pouted. _Pouted._ “Hey! I’m not that shabby. Besides, I feel bad for not treating you well ever since you got here. So, come. I asked the chef to make this for you, special in the house.”

“You have treated me well enough.” Seonghwa smiled back, although it was a bit fake, but he knew that the phoenix wouldn’t be able to recognize. He stared at a drumstick that Kim Hongjoong put inside his small plate, cautious. He shouldn’t trust anything at this point.

The shorter man noticed his hesitation toward the food, questioned, “Why are you not eating?” Then he scoffed, “Why? Are you afraid that I’m trying to poison you? Tsk, ungrateful. If you don’t eat then I will.” The phoenix took the drumstick back to his plate, munching it happily. 

“T-that’s not what I mean.” Seonghwa stuttered, feeling embarrassing for being caught.

“I got it.” Kim Hongjoong snorted, “You don’t have to defend yourself, I wouldn’t trust anything here either if I am you.” Then he set his chopsticks down on his plate, looking at Seonghwa with such a calculated expression.

It was the first time the dragon had seen the man acting this way.

“Let’s stop beating around the bush and cut to the point.” The phoenix said, “Tell me, what is your real purpose here.”

Seonghwa froze at the words.

_Who… whom was this man, really?_ Kim Hongjoong had never been this solemn before. And he knew that for a fact because of the man’s infamous rumors. He was never smart enough for secretive matters and too arrogant to understand that the world was dangerous. Since _when_ had he started being this ingenious?

It felt as if the phoenix was _threatening_ him, and Seonghwa, for the first time, couldn’t keep up with his fake smile. He secretly put his hand on his back, wanting to give a signal to his soldiers. It was alarming to know someone who could be this dangerous snuck right behind him, looking so innocent all the time. As much as he felt wrong for returning the man’s kindness with violence, Seonghwa still had a plan to follow. And he didn’t want anyone to crack his secrets.

“The cure.” Kim Hongjoong said, his face was grim, “you are looking for the cure, right?” Making the dragon withdraw his fingers, gesturing for the soldiers to lower their bows. “Everyone in this palace already knew about your little sickness, Park Seonghwa. And I know that the Tiger’s Tear can cure every sickness regardless of how bad they are.”

_So that was what it called._

“What cure?” Seonghwa decided to play dumb.

Kim Hongjoong laughed at the question, “You know you are bad at pretending, right? It’s kinda obvious.”

Seonghwa paused.

Kim Hongjoong really got him this time.

“What do you want from me?” Knowing that he had nothing to act on now, Seonghwa decided to show his true face. 

“Nothing.” Hongjoong responded, smiling, “nothing particular. I just want to let you know that I can do that.”

“Do what?”

“Give you,” the phoenix grabbed an alcohol kettle on the ceramic table and poured the drink into a small cup, “the cure, I mean.”

“Why?” Seonghwa asked, surprised by the offer.

The latter set the cup down on Seonghwa’s side, then grabbed another cup for himself. “ _Why?_ ” He shrugged, “the question should be why not? I have told you once and I will repeat it again. I won’t let you die Park Seonghwa.” Then he mumbled, “ _no matter what._ ” 

_Ba-thump._

The dragon remained quiet by the whispered-words, the feeling from yesterday morning at the brothel returning in a flash that he couldn’t recover from in time. He was suffocating _. Helplessly stuck_.

He felt as if he was about to do something he would regret for the rest of his life if he kept going, with his hand still behind his back and the soldiers still hidden on the rooftops, waiting patiently for his signal. Seonghwa decided to take the phoenix’s option into consideration. “How are you going to do that?”

Kim Hongjoong smiled, watching the man's actions carefully before he raised his cup, “You shall find out. I assume that it’s a yes.” Seonghwa swallowed nervously, 

“I haven’t agreed with anything.”

“You haven’t.” The phoenix nodded, “but let’s see how your words are going to change in the next few hours.” He knocked down the drink in his hand. Seonghwa watched the latter’s every moment like a hawk until he was taken aback by the man’s next move.

Kim Hongjoong approached him slowly, Barely reaching a few inches away from him before stopping and staring at the dragon for a moment.

Seonghwa gulped, returning the stare while his heart was thumping so hard as if it could rip out of him and escape. “W-what…what are you doing?”

The phoenix didn’t answer immediately, instead, he inspected Seonghwa’s face for a little after the question. He blinked his eyes twice and reached even closer to Seonghwa’s face. The taller man could count all of his long, pretty eyelashes at that approximate distance if he wanted.

“Helping you.” Kim Hongjoong spoke gently, then leaned in. Their lips met softly, almost as if just a light gaze between the surfaces, where Seonghwa could only feel the warm breath from the man rather than the actual skin. But instead of pressing in, Kim Hongjoong only stayed there, keeping the distance.

Seonghwa was too frightened to respond and was too scared to shove the phoenix away. They stayed in that position for three seconds, but it felt like years for the dragon. The shorter man didn’t depart, and while Seonghwa was too horrified to push him away, he managed to lift his head back.

“Kim Hongjoong, what was that about-“

The young phoenix, however, instead of retreating to where he was, suddenly felt limp into Seonghwa’s chest, and the dragon caught him into his arms, confused by the phoenix’s strange behavior.

He shook the man a few times, but to no avail.

“Hey!” Seonghwa patted the man’s cheek, there was no reaction.

“Hey, wake up, Kim Hongjoong. What are you trying to do? Hey! Kim-“

Seonghwa stopped, examining the unmoving body in his arms before realizing something was wrong with the man's posture. Something was wrong with this meeting. Something was wrong with the _table_.

He grabbed the cup on the table, the one that Hongjoong just used to drink, then took a sniff from it. He widened his eyes at the smell.

Poison.

He instantly checked the man’s pulse, pressing on the vein on his wrist, and praying that whatever was happening wasn’t what Seonghwa predicted inside his head.

He held his fingers by the wrist for a minute, but couldn’t feel anything.

_Nothing_ was beating.

_N-no. This can’t be._

_This can’t be it._ He must have guessed it wrong.

With shaky hands, Seonghwa slowly reached his two fingers toward the phoenix’s face, putting it under the man’s nose.

He retreated his fingers in shock, holding tight on the body that laid unconsciously on his embrace, being completely calm and clueless about the world.

_The phoenix- no._

Kim Hongjoong was _not_ breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heuklip = scholars/noblemen's hats back in joseon era (heuk is black, lip is hat)  
> gwanchalsa = basically a province governor, they can also be the judge in a court for their region.
> 
> if there are more questions, few free to ask!
> 
> laughs and rubs hands tgt evilly bc im a ho for dramatic cliffhangers (no i am not sorry :D)


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